open rp post

[tadpoled]

Link to Random Scenario Meme for ideas!

Comments

[tadpoled]

[Tav's eyes go wide before he steps forward to attempt to steady Gale on his feet. Tav's paranoia is off the charts, but seeing Gale always makes him throw caution to the wind, especially when covered with blood and bile and whatever else Orin may have used on him.]

Gale. I'm relieved.

[There's a warning from Astarion, but Tav ignores it for the desire and need in his heart.] How did you get away?

[waterdhavianwizard]

[Gale reaches for Tav, fingers skittering over his cheek, along his jaw, thumb pressing over the flutter of his pulse before one hand settles over his heart, the other curled around his jaw.

His eyes dart, intense and searching, across the others for just a moment before settling on Tav again.]

She let me run -- made me run. She bored of pinning me down under her knives. She means to hunt me for sport.

[His breathing picks up, fingers flexing briefly against Tav's armor and the curve of his jaw. Panicked.] You must run, Tav -- all of you -- I couldn't bear it if she found you.

[tadpoled]

[Tav welcomes the touches to his face; any contact with Gale again is a small blessing. Even the darting eyes mean that Gale is alive, here, within reach.]

Let you run? [That doesn't sound like any memories Tav has gathered with the help of the noblestalk mushroom. Still, having Gale here with him isn't something he can overlook.] We'll take you back to the Elfsong. Camp isn't safe any more.

[And then to address him and the rest of his party running, Tav shakes his head.] We're taking the fight to her. We can't keep running scared.

[waterdhavianwizard]

She ... [Gale lets out a shuddering breath. His fingers trail blood over Tav's armor, his freckled skin, sticking to his pale hair.] Gods, Tav, she took things -- sliced into me like I was nothing more than a dinner roast.

[The hand at Tav's jaw slides lower, Gale's fingertips tracing the line of his throat, painfully tender. Intimate.]

Nowhere is safe. [His voice is breathless -- almost airy.] Where can you go, that she has not already found you? Do you really think you could best Orin, the favored of your father?

[tadpoled]

Gale.

[Tav raises his hands to follow Gale's, stopping at Gale's wrists as the wizard's fingers trace the line of his throat.]

We are taking the fight to her. [Tav repeats, brows furrowing.] We can't be free-- I can't be free until we take care of her.

[Tav turns away from Gale for a moment, to ask Astarion to take Gale back to the Elfsong.]

[waterdhavianwizard]

Ah, ah, ah.

[Gale snatches Tav's wrist when he turns with a mocking noise, tugging him back against Gale's chest. It's too fast for Gale, grip erring towards too tight, his voice taking on a cruel lilt.]

You would turn your back on your beloved?

[He glances towards Astarion, whose hands pause on the hilts of his blades.]

I would tell your little spawn pet to leave his hands where they are, lest you both fall here while the wizard bleeds out on father's altar.

[tadpoled]

[Tav is firstly a druid, secondly a cleric, so when Gale pulls him in too sudden, too tight, it's unnerving. Gale has never needed to use force to keep Tav in one place; only his charms and open nature.]

Gale, let go.

[When Gale refers to himself in third person, though, Tav's gaze goes steely.]

Orin.

[waterdhavianwizard]

Not even a day since I saw you, and somehow you grow even more foolish, brother!

[It's Gale, and not: the voice too sharp, too glib, the smile on Gale's face full of too many teeth in the manner of Astarion's unkind flashes of fang.

Orin lets go, and even that seems mocking: they can't kill her here, not with Gale still secreted off to the temple.]

How he mewls and pines for you as you snuffle around in the rot. What will he think when I tell him you were so easily fooled yet again?

Pathetic little worms, the lot of you. Have you come for him? Or is it the netherstone? You won't get both.

[tadpoled]

[Tav's expression darkens further as he pulls back his hands and puts room between them. Hearing of Gale's pain sends a spike of lightning down his spine.]

We come for him. We will rescue him. And you will never touch him again.

[Tav prepares a spell, his fingers glowing turquoise. If Orin doesn't move, she'll be grappled by a vine.]

[waterdhavianwizard]

[Orin laughs, more like herself this time but still with Gale's face.]

You make too many promises you cannot keep, blood of my blood. To the Murder Lord, to Gortash and Thorm, to the goddess' cast-off.

[One hand twitches restlessly at her side in Gale's body as her eyes flick to Tav's fingers, the sort of instinctive gesture Gale would make in anticipation of casting.]

I bested you once, brother, and I will best you again, and again, and again, until you are flayed open in sacrifice. Chase me if you must. I think I might wear your face for him while he waits to die.

[A foul, sharp crack, and she sheds Gale's skin again in a smatter of gore. She touches the ring on her finger, and in a flash begins to disappear.]

[tadpoled]

ORIN! [Tav rushes for her, vines shooting up from the exposed earth, but missing her. He doesn't hesitate, though. The elf leaps after her, not looking where he's stepping or what trap he might be walking into.

The only thing is to follow her, to find where the Bhaal worshipers are gathering. He tumbles down one set of stone stairs as acolytes shoot fire and ice to slow him down, but as he rolls to his feet, he can still see her tell-tale red armor. Behind him, the party is slowly catching up, but Tav barely squeezes through the door into the Temple as it nearly slams shut on him.

And thus he is in the Temple, blood covers so many surfaces but then--

It's Gale, actually Gale, laid up on an altar of stone.]

Gale!

[waterdhavianwizard]

[Astarion rolls his eyes even as he gives chase, knives at the ready.] Better we don't die before we find him, darling!

[And then Tav's slipping through the Temple doors, too far away for even Astarion to reach without magic. The last thing Tav hears from outside the Temple is Astarion's shrill] Godsdammit, Tav! [Before the stone slams shut.

The first thing he hears from within is his own laughter: Orin, looming over Gale, wearing Tav's face as promised as she strokes bloodstained fingers over Gale's cheek on the altar.]

You're twice the fool I thought you were. Have you returned for a happy homecoming? Will you snatch this sacrifice from me as you snatched everything else from my grasp?

[tadpoled]

[Tav's expression darkens as he watches Orin wearing his skin. He hates that she's touching Gale like that.]

I'll make a deal with you: you and I fight and Gale is set free. You can kill me all you like. Just don't kill him. Please.

[Tav continues to move closer to the altar, very aware of the acolytes moving closer as well. This will be hard fought if it doesn't kill him, but his focus is on that altar, on Gale.]

[waterdhavianwizard]

[Orin digs her -- Tav's -- fingers into Gale's hair, shoving him to sit upright. He sways, half-conscious, his breathing ragged.]

Or I shall kill you both. [Orin singsongs, dragging her tongue over the bloody streak on Gale's cheek before letting him fall back against the altar with a sickening thump. He lets out a pained groan, grasping for nothing, hissing Tav's name in the haze of fading awareness.]

I will string you both up. Your blood will drip into the Murder Lord's waiting mouth like fine wine as you watch each other die. So romantic.

[But she circles the table, her knife appearing in her hand as she takes her own form again, staring down Tav with a cruel sneer.] To best you in a final duel would be so deliciously satisfying, though.

[tadpoled]

[Tav swallows down his need to swat her hands and tongue away from Gale, to rush to his side. No, he needs some measure of patience if he's to lure her into a duel.]

Then fight me in a duel. Prove to father that he chose wrong all those years ago. Bleed me dry as a sacrifice to him, his blood returning to him.

[Tav readies a sanctuary spell for whenever she moves away from the altar. His fingers glow again, this time a bright golden light.]

[waterdhavianwizard]

Rotten little maggot. [Orin snarls, stalking across the stone, a scowl etched across her face.]

A duel! I will leave you wriggling, strangled, strung up til the last of your blood drip drip drips from your veins, and he will venerate me, his most favored child, as we run rivers of blood through this wretched city.

[tadpoled]

[As soon as Orin clears the altar, Tav whispers macte virtute and a golden shroud spills over Gale, illuminating his skin with a golden hue. There. Now that Gale is safe, it's time to not lose concentration.]

Then come fight me, bloodkin.

[Tav prepares another spell, spike growth, hands now glowing a mint green color.]

[waterdhavianwizard]

[Orin lets out a shrill, angry noise as soon as she realizes what Tav's done.]

I will gut you! Flay your skin from your bokes in the Murder Lord's name!

[Runes glow red under her feet -- her body seems to shatter around her, the Slayer in her place, poised to launch itself at Tav with an inhuman shriek.]

[tadpoled]

[Tav knows he can't dodge some kind of jumping attack and the spike growth will only slow down someone walking through it. So, he changes plans, readies a moonbeam instead, but perhaps just a touch too slow as he concentrates on the sanctuary spell, first and foremost.]

[waterdhavianwizard]

[The Slayer launches itself at Tav with a snarl, swiping with one of its spindly arms. Even if the spell doesn't land quite when Tav intends, the Slayer form is so lanky -- so long -- the silvery light still slams into its hind quarters, sending the Slayer sprawling across the stone with a pained yowl as it claws at Tav.]

[tadpoled]

[Tav barely gets the spell off with a ex textura. The light seems to tip the new, monstrous form of Orin off her feet and now Tav prepares the spike growth before he remembers that the spell will break his concentration on the sanctuary spell.

So instead, he readies firebolt and one of his short swords, putting a few more paces between him and Orin.]

[waterdhavianwizard]

[The moonbeam seems to rattle it -- the Slayer wails as it scrambles to its feet, the wounds inflicted forcing Orin back into her own body, left to scramble for her blades once again.]

Foul magic, nasty work -- you rebuke father's gifts for this foolishness?

[She swipes with both blades, wide and wild, so furious with Tav even that last imagined vestige of control falls away.

Orin is gifted, certainly; dedicated, undeniably. But even beyond the nature of the Dark Urge's creation, if there are reasons Bhaal favored the flesh of his flesh over Orin, her wanton recklessness is chief among them.

From the altar, Gale stirs briefly with a strained groan, the golden halo of the sanctuary throwing the dark stains on his robe and the circles under his eyes into stark relief.]

[tadpoled]

He is not my fath-- [The moment Tav hears Gale stir, he becomes distracted. He shifts his focus to the wizard and pays for it in an instant. Orin's claws rip into Tav, nearly sundering his limbs from his body. A quick te curo saves him from losing an arm, but he's still bleeding profusely.

The golden light over Gale flickers and fades away and Tav panics. Rather than attack Orin, he casts another macte virtute.]

[waterdhavianwizard]

[Orin slashes wildly, trying to force Tav farther back from the alter — trying to get Tav to look away from Tav. It should be easier for her with him so distracted; instead it just seems to infuriate her further that Tav is more focused on keeping Gale alive than winning.]

You deny him?! I should have slit your throat when I had the chance!

[tadpoled]

[One of the slashes hits Tav in the chest and he spins, slumping to the floor. He turns his head toward the altar, making sure the sanctuary spell hasn't faded again. Part of Tav knows he's a sitting duck if he keeps checking on Gale, but he's the only thing that matters. This duel, whether he wins or loses, is far below his need to keep Gale alive.]

'd like to see you try. [Tav continues to taunt, readying a grappling vine spell and releasing it within the same breath. The vine reaches for Orin, attempting to pull her off her feet.]