Fimbulvetr

Radames

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Andante & Iracebeth

Couple OTS


Private your world will fail, it's already there

#1


Tywin Traegur

Arrhule was suffocating. Every morning Tywin woke with an itinerary of necessary tasks that only grew longer with every one marked complete. With the melt of snow, the real damage to the hold showcased itself in garish, muddied grandeur. Some were still buried from their homes, left to rest and sleep in the open chasm if not brought in by friends, while the work continued to dig through the loads of earth. They needed to act quickly, before the roots took hold and grass grew, for then it would have served as twice, if not thrice, the labor.

But the cataclysmic event was nearly reversed. Areas blocked off could be accessed again thanks to the work of dozens of Arrhulans, Tywin included. Never a man to throw himself into the physical aspects of leadership, the monotonous work distracted him. Now, perhaps for the first time in his long years, he needed, craved, a distraction.

Hindsight, perhaps laboring, sweating, and rasping alongside his peers wasn’t an ideal outlet. The slowly slowly disappearing mounds of dirt were present, obvious reminders of the discord that had stolen what he’d worked so hard to achieve. But thrust his hooves into the hardened sod, uprooting stone, and lugging loads of debris from their home numbed the reminders of those lost in the disaster, of the still missing parties, and everything else that had gone wrong. Everything else, he had asked himself one day, sweat beading along his brows as sharp sapphires glared – not purposely – to the nearly cleared Arrhule ravine. Of course there was more. Reactively his gaze swept, placid and distant as he observed the milling bodies; one was very absent, had been for a short period of time, just as reality seemed to sink it’s claws back into her.

Tywin let a snort erupt from his nares, and he set himself back to work. It wasn’t his place. Whatever shadows were slowly slipping over Arete, draining her of that whimsy and unguarded freedom, were her own to struggle with – the avoidance made it irreparably evident. Tywin stewed on it again, his skin prickling, smoky glass of contemplation obstructing his perception of his newest task; lookout, atop the ravine. The work was done, there was little to preoccupy hismself with now besides the obvious vacancy in the hold and collective. Perhaps he stood far too close to the edge for one’s liking, but it wrangled him away from the boiling mess inside, the one that slowly cooked himself, as his gaze fell to the blade laced cavern. The verdant grass jostled in the mountain winds, and one particularly strong zephyr toppled a small pebble over the edge. He watched it fall as long as he could, up until the pebble disappeared into the blurred haze below.

He blinked, his left eye having bothered him since the event with the bright Pegasus in the Bifrost, but he’d been too busy (consciously so, perhaps even risen from stubbornness) so find a healer. In the list of tasks he as the Jarl had to see to, he placed his own health at the bottom of the barrel with the rest of the garbage and scum.

Tywin’s teeth grit. Another thing, another fray he’d carefully re-plait when the time became available. Mentally he scraped it from it’s previously dank, wet, forgotten place and tossed the note into another list, another mindful of items he wouldn’t allow himself to forget (and stressed him with it’s hovering, eternal presence). There, besides finding Arete and other ordeals he’d leave for another day. Another week. When he had the resolve and mindfulness to do it.

Another itching crawl, one reminiscent of the way he imagined his sire scurried. It made his audits flip back into the jet of his heavy mane, lids tighten along his eyes. No. He murmured to himself, a verbal chastise to get a hold of himself. He was Tywin Traegur, First of his Name, the Only Son, and Jarl of Arrhule, and he was never a man that let his emotions slip their unpredictable hands around the reins. So like an enchanted sentry, an unyielding obsidian statue, his hooves caged the tremble of a brooding storm within, and he exhaled.


W C: 702
T A G: Ozereus
M U S E: 5/5
O O C: lez go
powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Tywin]

#2


The wind shifts, flight feathers adjusting automatically to compensate for the warm gust of springtime air. Blackened nostrils flare to draw in the arrival of new scents and the rocky excuse for a heart in his chest stops. Arete. The thought is clear and sharp, an instant relief from the almost constant flickering of shadow at the corners of his vision. Her presence has always calmed the feral side of him and without her, he drifts ever closer to that uncrossable line where he may remain in that state the rest of his days.

He drops down a few hundred feet while silvered eyes seek out the gleam of snow-white hair. The absence of colorless tendrils frustrates him, but he does not give in to the simmering rage lurking under ebony skin. Ozereus swoops lower yet again, and relies on scent to guide him. It proves fairly easy to pick up the remnants of her trail and he eagerly follows from his vantage point until it becomes murky with the scents of so many others. What are they doing? It appears they are working to restore the landscape and a flicker of surprise drifts across dark features; he was unaware the devastation occurred in this region as well.

A semi-familiar scent tickles the back of his mind, a male whose odor coated Arete when she returned from the fight that never happened. He scowls to find them apparently in close proximity again but circles once before spotting the source. He drops to the ground scant feet away from the man, hooves slamming into the earth at great speed. Ozereus leaves his wings to drag behind him, as he looks over the painted visage of the stranger. Silvered eyes portray nothing as a voice, rusted from disuse, fills the air. ”You reek of someone I know.” He offers no further information, waiting to see how the man responds before determining the likely safety of Arete.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OOC: Tywin I still need to fix my code, but there it is. <3

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag: @[Ozereus]