Tag: blood tw //

{ 6, 8, 10 :3 )

8. Is the muse merciful or *cruel?

J’hasi’s usually a very merciful person. There’s only a few cases that he’s been cruel. Thalmor are the biggest case, obviously, if he’s allowed the time he’ll draw out the injuries and deaths unnecessarily. Same story with a few bandits and other such folks that were cruel to innocents in a way that conflicts deeply with how J’hasi feels others should treat each other.

An example can be found here. Warning: implied rape

—

10. Is my muse honourable?

Depends. If his assailant is Thalmor, or is very clearly trying to kill him or harm others in any way, there is no honorable fighting. Survival takes precedence. Any fight J’hasi isn’t interested in taking part in and someone pushes him, also no honor, he’ll end it as quickly as he can with whatever’s at his disposal (following the mentality that ‘if you start a fight without regard for me, I’ll finish it without regard for you’).

Good-natured brawls/duels/sparring he’ll be honorable, as that’s something he’s agreed to, and is usually a learning experience, practice, and/or for funsies.

TL;DR J’hasi’s honorable unless you’re threatening survival/wellbeing of himself or others and/or being a dick. Show respect, get respect and all that.

—

6. A drabble about the first time the muse killed someone.

The Khajiit shivered a little, surprised at the angry confession from the Dunmer, seeming to show no regret for what they’d done. Murdering someone, even a tax collector, and just…not caring… It scared him a little, but also made him angry. Did they not care about the Dunmer in the lighthouse? Thavere hadn’t even known their friend was dead until he’d said something. And the look on their face when he’d told them… J’hasi’s ears flicked back, brows furrowed.

“<That’s not excuse for murder.>” Foryn’s eyes narrowed on him.

“<You’re one of them, huh? Come to kill me? Well, give it your best shot, Khajiit. I’ve no problem spilling more of the blood of the Emperor’s lackeys!>” Before he could protest about the ‘lackey’ bit (or the killing bit for that matter), he was tackled into the wall behind him, yelping as a basket was crushed under him, head striking the wood at his back with a hiss. The Dunmer’s fingers groped for his neck, J’hasi’s tail puffing as he tried to shove them away, get them away from his neck, but the haft of his spear wasn’t much use in such close quarters, not when he was also trying to keep from being strangled.

“<W-wait!>” he yelped, only for the mer to grab the collar of his armor, lifting him up and slamming him into the wall, knocking him silly, letting him go only to grip around his throat and squeeze. The Khajiit started to panic, squirming, eyes wide, shocked and not knowing what to do, he had to get away, he had to breathe. It wasn’t until the edges of his vision started to darken that it hit him.

He was going to die here.

It was when the reality of that set in that J’hasi started to wriggle, teeth bared, biting at the air, hands grabbing the mer’s wrists and sinking his claws in, drawing his legs up, the claws on his toes tearing into fabric and skin as he kicked, clawing, biting, trying to get away. The Dunmer let out a long, loud stream of curses, letting go and backing away, blood staining their front and skin as the Khajiit gasped for breath like a beached fish.

“<You n’wah!>” Foryn rushed him again, but this time panic and adrenaline fueled the young Khajiit’s body like shock magic, darting underneath the arms reaching for his throat again, tackling them and knocking them over onto the ground. The mer let out a huff of air, hands reaching for his throat again, J’hasi’s tail puffing behind him before he grabbed the sides of the Dunmer’s head, bringing it up, and slamming it down.

Over.

And over.

And over…

The Khajiit was shaking, not realizing he’d been crying, eyes wide and cheeks damp, hands trembling as he realized that the dampness at his fingertips couldn’t be from tears.

Red. Red on the floor, under the mer’s head…

J’hasi’s breathing hitched sharply in his throat, scrambling back, kicking frantically to get away from a body he realized was dead, his back hitting the door with a thump. He looked at his hands, finding that his fingertips were darker, the scent of iron and salt biting at his nose. He hurriedly wiped it away on the dirt floor, his hands and…everything trembling uncontrollably. The glassy stare of the mer was still locked on the ceiling, where his face had been only…only moments before… The same look of shock and realization frozen in place… The Khajiit’s own face screwed up, closing his eyes, grabbing at the sides of his head as he started sobbing.

He just killed someone.

Flash forward

He could smell them.

It was a scent he hadn’t forgotten, though at the time his grasp on his newfound senses at the time had been confusing, overwhelming. It nearly drove him mad the first time he’d been around so many noises and smells, and cities…cities had been overwhelming initially. But out here, in the cold and crisp air, upwind from the pack he’d run into…he could smell them perfectly well.

The scent wasn’t quite the same, though. The scent of blood from the altar outside, a recent victim’s body left to scavengers, too cold this time of year for rot distracted him, made it hard to tell what was different about the scents. The cave itself was nearly as cold, and smelled of decay and that musky scent in the shadier apothecaries he’d been in in various provinces. He drew up his scarf in an attempt to keep his nose clear for when he needed to scent, ears pricked, waiting, listening as he crept forward. He could hear the crunch of snow, claws clicking on stone and metal…ragged breathing… Fresher blood came from within, and after a small bend in the cave’s interior, he could see the source: an unlucky victim on a stone table, skin flayed open and flesh laid to bare. His mouth watered a little as he focused on his targets, one of which strode into view not long after he spotted the body. He pressed himself against the wall, eyes flicking from their face to their body and back.

They’d changed.

Faces that had once been smooth and natural were now warped, twisted until they were barely recognizable. Dark feathers sprouted from their shoulders, limbs, their backs now hunched over akin to a vulture’s. J’hasi swallowed as he saw the claws on both their hands and feet, distorted in a mixed mockery of the two forms they had taken last he had seen them: a raven, and an Imperial woman. Black eyes stared from within pale sockets, making the Khajiit shiver a little at their stare, even if it wasn’t focused on him.

He’d found them, two hundred and six years after they’d vanished, after they’d tricked him.

Ettiene, Isobel, and Fallaise…the Glenmoril Witches.

[ ☤: a memory of death/loss ]

4E 171, Cyrodiil

Another crash, heat billowing in as the tunnels crumbled more, mortar hissing between the stones to color them ashen. J’hasi coughed, shaking his head as he pulled his scarf up over his nose better, feeling Baht blindly grope for his tail to lead him. The Khajiit gripped his sword tighter, keeping his head low as he heard the sounds of battle upstairs where the Thalmor had breached the interior. He could hear the newer recruits’ shaky breathing alongside the unsteady veterans’ as he fought to keep his own smooth and calm. Small skirmishes he’d long been accustomed to, but it was like the Battle of Bruma, or the invasion of the Imperial City all over again, except…except Daedric banishments would be of little use.

The sound of barked Altmeris prompted J’hasi to press on further, only able to smell the dust and fear in the tunnels. His hands and legs were shaking, licking his lips and tasting dust as his eyes caught the familiar bend in the tunnel before they would be outside, safe. …hopefully.

“Up ahead, quickly.” he whispered. He felt Baht squeeze his tail in response, his hand shaking. They’d nearly gotten to the bend when the howling wail of another fireball sailing for the Temple made Baht freeze, J’hasi looking back to prompt him to keep moving. The fireball struck the walls, another shuddering rumble rippling through the old stone and mortar. Part of the ceiling collapsed behind them, the Khajiit hissing at the others to keep moving, seeing light filtering through from above. They had to move quickly before the tunnel was found.

It was only once they were outside that J’hasi could see the damage wrought on the place he’d called home for a while now, fires blazing over old Akaviri architecture, walls blasted open, the blood of Blades and Thalmor alike staining it and the snow around it, bodies littered about. It made his legs shake, making it hard to breathe before he pulled Baht forward, ushering the recruits ahead.

Of course it was too easy to just let them get away, lead the recruits away from a battle they weren’t at all prepared for.

A fireball struck the trunk of a tree, far too close to the Khajiit’s head for comfort, turning around and spotting a few of those dark-robed bastards and others in golden Elvish armor. He pushed Baht ahead, turning to face them.

“GO! Run!” he snapped, turning to bare his fangs at the mer rushing him. The scent of steel and iron, blood brought him back down from the fear making him tremble, a normal battle, combat he was used to, practiced movements day after day in the Temple courtyard, against other Blades for a bet, or as punishment, and eventually, wooden dummies when the Blades there knew better than to fight him.

It never got any easier, but it was familiar.

One slash cut right through robes, the mage startled when he turned to fight them so quickly and crying out in pain before scarlet soaked the cloth darker, staggering back. Another mage tried to use a shock spell, only for it to just tingle, another sending blazing pain through his arm and rendering it useless for precious moments, but he lunged at them, the tip of his blade sinking into their stomach and out the back. It was by then that the ones in armor caught up, ducking back to avoid a swing of a greatsword, bringing up his twitching arm, the blade glancing off the steel bands over his forearm, but bruising and leaving it feeling hot and unsteady.

His tail whipped behind him, snarling before slamming his shoulder into the mer’s stomach, knocking them both into the snow, tumbling, disoriented, a slice on the Khajiit’s cheek appearing when the greatsword nicked him. When they finally stopped at the bottom of the hill, he took his blade in both hands and drove the edge down over the mer’s throat, seeing shock and surprise, fear, before blood sprayed out from their neck and splattered over their skin, the Khajiit’s face and armor.

J’hasi flattened out over the body to avoid a roar of flame, catching the scent of burning cloth behind him and rolling over into the snow, putting out his scarf. He staggered a little while getting up, still a little dizzy as the two other armored mer and the last mage came at him. The Khajiit took deep breaths as they ran to him, darting to the side of the mage, swiping their dagger from their hip before stabbing them in the kidney with it, shoving them down the hill before blocking one of the armored Thalmor’s swings with his sword. He ducked, shoving the blades up when the other armored mer ran at him with a warhammer, the two of them hitting each other with a screech of metal before backing away.

In the brief seconds that followed, J’hasi kicked at the legs of one, throwing the dagger at the mage struggling to aim a spell at him below, striking their side with a thump. A brief moment when a Thalmor snatched the edge of his scarf caught him off-guard, a sharp slice of his sword and he was free, running up into the mountains and trees, heart racing. He could hear the remaining two huffing, trying to keep up with him, his own lungs and limbs burning with fatigue and strain, unused to wearing heavy armor for so long. When he finally caught up with the recruits, he was gasping, seeing Baht spot him and rush to him, shaking.

“J-J’hasi, y-you okay?” he asked, his ‘s’ a hiss in his panicked state. The Khajiit pat him on the shoulder.

“Fine. W…we need to move. Bolar, scout ahead, make sure there aren’t more ahead trying to cut us off.” Velyn started, eyes wide.

“We got more incoming.” J’hasi turned to see the two he’d left behind, as well as a few archers, arrows already being drawn.

“Archers! Move!” he barked, hearing the creaks of bowstrings before sharp hisses, one sinking into his side, dinging against a Breton’s shield, Velyn’s armor…and one diving right through Baht’s armor and into his stomach.

The next few seconds seemed like an eternity, yet an instant. Blood dribbled from the Saxhleel’s mouth, eyes wide as he staggered back, not quite sure what had happened to him just yet. J’hasi ran to him, grabbing his arm, trying to get him to move, get him out of range. Baht’s steps were fumbling, slow, the Khajiit straining to keep him upright, keep him moving. Another volley, recruits screaming as they were shot or saw their friends dropping to the ground, dead, Velyn trying to get them to keep running.

J’hasi pulled Baht along, surprised when the Saxhleel suddenly fell on top of him with a huff, the scent of blood filling his nose. The Khajiit struggled to get out from underneath him, pushing him onto his back, eyes lighting up with fear when he saw the Thalmor closing in on them. The pounding in his chest grew too painful, gasping sharply before a series of cracks and snaps erupted from his body, claws swiping at the bindings of his armor, trying to get them off before he could be crushed inside his own armor. His short gasps turned into sharp snarls, his scarf slipping off of his neck as it grew thicker, the Khajiit almost feeling sick with how quickly he was rising up. He saw a flash of Baht’s face, fear in his eyes before the Thalmor made sounds of panic, and the wolf rushed in, full force.

…

J’hasi’s limbs shook with exhaustion and the fading rage as he walked through the torn bodies of the dead soldiers, collapsing into a heap next to the Saxhleel still breathing, still whimpering with pain and fear, trying to push himself away. The Khajiit puffed out a few breaths before hushing the Argonian.

“S’alrigh’…s’…s’fine… Baht. Baht, look at me.” His ears flicked back when Baht shook his head, jaw trembling, unable to make much noise other than whimpering. J’hasi looked over his body, seeing and smelling the blood from the wound in his stomach, but also blood pooling from underneath him. He let out a low curse. Had it gone all the way through?

“<Baht, I need you to talk to me, okay? I’m gonna get ff-that arrow out, and fff-then we’re gonna have to move, alright?>” The Argonian shivered, hand shaking as it grabbed at the snow under him.

“<I-I-I c-can’t feel m-mm-my legs.>” J’hasi’s blood went cold, realizing that while his arms were trying to push at the snow to move him, his legs, his tail…they were still. He pulled Baht onto his side, spotting an arrow that had gone right between the plates of his armor into his back at an odd angle. The Khajiit grit his teeth, then snapped the shaft off, Baht yelping before he pushed him onto his back again. He pat the Argonian’s face, trying to keep his eyes open.

“<Listen to me. I’m going to get you out of here, okay? Baht?>” The Saxhleel was looking at him, throat convulsing as he kept swallowing, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth, from his nose, panting and whimpering, tears streaking down his cheeks as a shaky hand grabbed a handful of his fur. J’hasi shivered, his vision blurring a little as he tried moving him, only to feel horror clawing up his throat when the grip at his arm tightened, those yellow eyes pausing, unfocusing…the shaking and watery gasps and whimpers quieting. A few seconds of silence passed, before…

“<…B…Baht?>” The Khajiit gently shook his shoulder, jaw trembling. No response. His vision blurred, tears overflowing and spilling out over his fur, soaking it and rapidly growing cold in the freezing air.

“Baht.” J’hasi sniffed, a small whimper coming out before he dropped his head, fingers curling over the cold breastplate of his friend, his mentee…

“<P-please…>”

Spooky Scary Specters – Mzarkmiir/J’hasi

“You’re going to get bit by the fire again.” The pale mare snorted a little at the Khajiit’s warning, nibbling at the grass near the rocks surrounding the campfire. Its orange glow lit her side up in harsh contrast as she slowly, casually walked around the ring of stones, tail swishing in the darkness behind her flank as she browsed the small, new blades poking up from the soil.

J’hasi smiled, shaking his head a little as he turned back to cutting, peeling back the hide of the deer he had brought down earlier that evening, brief strokes of a blade exposing the meat of the buck’s hind leg. A few cuts, some twisting, and a final wrench on the limb had it popping out of socket. He picked a few hairs off, cutting a small piece to snack on, further pieces laid on the heated rocks next to the fire to cook. Ghost lifted her head up, ears flicking for a few moments before she turned to look at the Khajiit and the carcass he was working on.

“…I gotta eat too. Don’t give me that look.” he muttered. She’d been avoiding him since she caught the scent of blood on him. It was natural, but it still bugged him a little. He prodded at one of the smaller pieces with his knife, hearing it hiss as it cooked, the smell making him hungry.

[ 3. (childhood) A harsh lesson is learned. ]

“<BIG SPLASH!>” came the screeching war-cry, Gar-Dan running down the big roots of a tree to spring into the water, their thick tail slapping the water before the rest of them followed. Water splashed everywhere, even getting sprays to hit Marsh-Eyes where they were on the rocks. Jeer-rah was still on shore, trying to figure out how Marsh had gotten so far out onto the rocks without getting any of their feathers wet.

Gulum and Rei-Shaw were paddling out in the middle of the deeper areas of the pool, the murky water washing over their backs before one of the twins dove down, the other following. Jeer waded out into the water, tail splashing at the surface as they made their way over to Marsh, fans flared a little in excitement. They actually weren’t supposed to be here, but that was part of the fun, right? The adults had told them to keep out of this part of the swamp, but it was only here that the water actually got deep enough to properly swim. Marsh hadn’t liked the restriction because once again, because they couldn’t breathe water, the adults treated them like a newborn hatchling. Jeer smiled as they started to float, swishing their tail to reach Marsh.

“<Wanna swim with me?>” they asked quietly, Marsh nodding before sliding their palms over the side of the rock they were on, claws barely touching the water before they shifted their weight and they slid in. They dove under with barely a splash, surfacing a little ways away. Their hands and feet clawed at the murk, water dripping off their head and crest while their tail flicked to the surface, steering.

Jeer dove underneath, rising up high enough to feel Marsh’s feet touch their back, lifting them higher up in the water before diving down again. Their feet pushed off the muddy bottom to dart to the surface, clearing their gills of the silt. Marsh was grinning, huffing a little to keep up as they followed Jeer around the pool. They were startled when Gar suddenly screamed, flailing out of the water, scrambling over roots dipping into the pool to escape. Gulum surfaced with a grin, Jeer flattening their fans at them.

“<Gulum, c’mon. You know Gar is afraid of water-snakes.>” The twin shrugged, then dipped backwards to dive under once more with a flash of bright blue scales from their tail tip. Jeer rolled their eyes, then took Marsh-Eye’s fingers in their own and pulled them around the surface of the pool, using only powerful strokes of their tail and occasional kicks to right their course. It was when the forest around the pool got eerily quiet that Marsh started to shiver a little. And when Gar-Dan started screaming again.

“<Gulum, don’t->” Jeer’s voice died in their throat when they saw the twins on shore, eyes wide and limbs stiff with fear, the Argonian turning to look towards Gar and seeing blood in the water. It took them a moment before they could breathe, pushing Marsh towards shore. A triangular wake was heading right for them, and behind that, something big with teeth flashed out of the water briefly, Gar’s dropped tail in its mouth. Jeer swam for shore, claws digging deep into the mud when they saw the nose and eyes of the thing that was chasing them, maw opening to snap on Marsh’s tail. The Saxhleel sprang onto its head and smacked it with their own tail for good measure, yelping when they were thrown off into the pool, but giving their friend time to scramble onto shore.

Jeer managed to escape the pool by climbing the roots, getting a nip at their tail on the way up, turning to try and find a way to get Gar-Dan out, but…it was too late. They were gone.

Marsh’s eyes were locked on the area of the pool where the water was red with Gar’s blood, frothing from the bubbles that had escaped their lungs in panic. They jumped a little when Jeer-rah touched their shoulder, the four hatchlings in horrified shock as they saw the creatures grab onto pieces of their friend, spinning in the water to twist bits free to eat.

It was Jeer who got them all to move, to head back to the tribe, and after they told the adults what had happened, after the lectures, Marsh crawled into Sees’ bed that night, scared of the images that wouldn’t fade, of orange-yellow eyeshines and the groaning hisses of the monsters in the water, and the panicked look on their friend’s face before they were gone forever.

▣

He knew it, he knew that having his damned sword in the Hall of Attainment was a bad idea, but had he moved it? No. He’d grown too complacent, that much was obvious.

He had to give the whelp props for approaching him outside of town at least…

“It’s over, cat. Come quietly and we won’t have to get rough.”

“We both know that us getting rough is the least of my worries at the moment, whelp.” The Khajiit had avoided looking Aldaril in the eye since the brothers approached, the view of him clad in his armor wasn’t enough to make him forget how kind he’d been to him, but it did make him afraid. If only he would’ve had a damned helm too, it would make this easier. He took a deep breath, finally directing a hesitant glance at the taller mer’s face, hoping to find something other than what he found: reluctance, but his mind made up to do his duty as a Thalmor dog.

Damn it all to Oblivion…

“Last chance, cat. Sur-”

“I have no intention of going, quietly or otherwise.” J’hasi snapped, voice cold and sharp, gaze steely as he firmed his resolve. He’d have to kill them both. It was that or die, either here or later after extensive torture, no doubt. He readied his spear, pulling his dagger from his hip. If only they’d been in the forest, where he’d have the advantage. Out here in the patches of deep snow and glaciers? He’d have a devil of a time getting the advantage he needed to survive. He couldn’t die yet, not today. The younger mer smirked, charging up a handful of flames.

“So be it, cat.” J’hasi’s face twisted in a snarl.

“Stop. Calling. Me. CAT!” He rushed the little bastard, surprising himself as well as the other two at how quickly he closed the gap, the fireball launched and gone wide as the Khajiit tackled the Justicar to the ground, the haft of his spear pressing into his throat. He felt sparks causing his fur to rise, pupils slits as J’hasi slashed at the offending hand with his dagger, slamming a knee down onto the Altmer’s arm to keep it down while he felt the burning sting of a slice across his cheek from Icarus’ dagger, a hiss of magic signaling the reason why it felt worse than he thought it would. Enchanted.

He saw Aldaril coming from the side, a massive battleaxe at the ready, but instead of using that, a massive boot kicked him in the side, sending him sprawling into the snow. Gods damn it felt like being kicked by a horse, knocked breathless and leaving his ribs hurting like hell… At least two were broken… He looked up to see Aldaril pulling his little brother up out of the snow, the shorter mer grimacing at the cut on his hand and a little out of breath.

He had to separate them.

“You little fetcher! I’ll-!” J’hasi gasped at the strain it took to cast a fireball so quickly, missing the armored mer and nailing Icarus right in the stomach with it. He aimed more carefully, focusing, then cast levitation on his intended target.

“Whoa, hey! What’s-!?” The Khajiit panted as the soldier was lifted off the ground, floating too high up to be a problem for now as he picked up his spear, walking over to the whelp groaning in the snow. Ic’s eyes flashed briefly with fear before he lifted his hand alight with sparks, gaze darting briefly for his brother before finding him floating ten feet off the ground. J’hasi scowled at the hand, whipping the haft of his spear and striking it, the mer yelping in pain as he dropped the spell and clutched it to his chest. He aimed his spear at the Thalmor’s throat, seeing his eyes widen.

“If it weren’t for your brother, I would’ve killed you in Saarthal.” he snapped, then stabbed the Altmer in the throat, twisting the spear before pulling it free, tail swishing. The mer’s eyes widened, gurgling as he started to choke on his own blood.

“ICARUS!” J’hasi flinched at the sound of raw pain in the elder’s voice, the spell shuddering as it neared its end and he began to struggle.

“ICARUS, NO! YOU BASTARD!” The Khajiit swallowed past the guilt constricting his throat, looking up and readying himself for the spell to end. Aldaril thrashed in the air, rage and pain on his face as tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over.

“I’LL KILL YOU! LET ME DOWN, NOW! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” J’hasi trembled, almost wishing he had just gone for the older brother first… But he had to take strategy over mercy… He could’ve done without hurting Aldaril like that, but… There was no choice.

“I…I’m sorry, Al…” The Thalmor soldier fell to the ground with a clang of metal and vibrations in the ground J’hasi could feel from where he was standing, flinching at the thump. The mer groaned, huffing as he pushed himself up, barely waiting until he was upright and had his weapon before launching himself at the Khajiit with a speed that alarmed him.

The first swing J’hasi barely dodged, the edge of the axe slicing through some of his mane as he sprang aside, the next whistling over his head, the third slicing into his arm with a yelp. The next overhead one he was caught on his heels, lifting his spear up to block it, only to hear a crack of the amber-hardened wood and the pain of the axe slicing through his forehead and cheek, narrowly missing his eye. J’hasi staggered backwards, panting, one eye blinded by blood while the other looked at the enraged mer in front of him, already starting to swing again.

The Khajiit slid his grip down the remaining half of his spear that had the spearhead still attached, switching his grip on his dagger as he darted underneath the next swing, stabbing into the joint of the armor under Aldaril’s shoulder, getting a knee to the stomach and the haft of the battleaxe shortly after, knocking him back. J’hasi slid across the snow with a groan, his hands shaking as he pushed himself up to look up at his opponent.

He couldn’t survive like this.

The Khajiit coughed, blood coming up and staining the snow before he pulled on his wolf, starting to shift, grimacing at the sharp heart pains before he got up, cracks and snaps of his bones making it painful, but he had to endure. Aldaril looked confused when he dropped his weapons, pulling his scarf free from around his neck, the sound of his robes tearing as his body swelled underneath. His fur thickened, back hunching over as he grew larger, a deepening growl rumbling from him before he fell over onto all fours, tail swishing off a torn scrap of dull orange fabric.

J’hasi roared, lunging at the Altmer, knocking him to the ground and pinning him, hands shoving the soldier’s up to trap them above his head, body resting heavily over his stomach to keep him still. The werewolf growled quietly for a moment, wishing he could say one last thing before his fangs dove for the mer’s throat, tearing it out.

‘I’m sorry.’

▣? If it isn’t too late and you feel like it. ;u;

They just kept getting younger and younger… The Khajiit didn’t care how the whelp found him, their fate was decided the moment they mentioned ‘coming quietly’, giving him that pleading look like it was a minor thing and not the death sentence it actually was. He’d already started reaching for his dagger, intending to cut their throat and run, only to catch the scent of someone else behind him moments before a blast of electricity caught him in the back.

It was hard to breathe for a few moments, worse than it had been when he’d been shocked like that in Bruma only a few months ago. He wheezed, claws sinking into the dirt, face wrinkled in a snarl as the younger Thalmor looked down at him in surprise, taking a step back. He couldn’t understand much of the Altmeris that passed between the two, but from what few words he caught and the tone, it was a reprimand, or a threat directed at the young mer. He took advantage of the other’s distraction, for once their shadow loomed over him he flipped over, kicking sharply at the elder’s knees, knocking him back with a sharp cry of pain.

It was only moments, darting up to pin the Altmer down to the ground, grimacing at another blast of shock magic that spidered over his body from their grip on his wrist, but it didn’t hurt. If anything, the ache eased, giving him the strength needed to slam their head down to the ground, over and over, hard enough to stun them and keep them from using magic. Seconds later his dagger found its purchase at the Thalmor bastard’s throat, slicing it wide open and lifting his chin up so that the spray of blood didn’t splatter all over his face.

J’hasi got up, legs trembling a little as he wiped some of it off his chin, turning to face the younger of the two, who looked pale and panicked, eyes darting for some sort of escape. The Khajiit bared his fangs, not in the mood for a chase, and rushed them. He slammed them into a tree, the edge of a sickly-warm and still-dripping blade pressed at their throat. There was a brief pause, a moment where he almost backed down, seeing those panicked eyes fill with tears, his features easing a little from their harsh, hostile stare in response before he adjusted his grip on his blade.

“You should’ve stayed home, kid.” The slice was quick, clean, and doused him with blood again, but he couldn’t watch while the young mer bled out, fingers scrabbling over his hands holding them to the tree. When they slumped, too heavy to hold up anymore, J’hasi’s knees buckled as he tried to lower them to the ground, but his muscles were too weak from the earlier shocking and the strain of the fight and they both hit the ground hard. He panted, wiping his mouth off, ears lowered.

He felt sick.

▣

The one time it would’ve been more convenient for the guard to take their time, they show up right on time. Early, even. With the helm on and being upwind, J’hasi couldn’t identify which guard it was in particular, but what with being covered in blood and with his Blades sword sheathed in the belly of a twitching Thalmor, he couldn’t risk wasting time. He pulled the length of steel out from Altmeri guts, pulling his elven dagger from its sheathe at his hip, readying himself to fight. It didn’t take long, a parry and springing up a barrel and a crate in the alley and he was behind them, catching a scent he didn’t want to smell mixed with blood, but it was too late. He’d seen his face, his identity… He pinned the Nord to the wall, the edge of a blade pressing along his unprotected throat.

“Nothing personal, sera… I’m sorry.” A swift pull and drag of his dagger and blood gushed from the man’s throat, soaking him again, yes, but at this point trying to avoid it was pointless. His previous fight had been…messy… J’hasi swallowed, grimacing at the overwhelming stench of blood and how it in turn made his mouth water, but he had to hurry before more came. The Khajiit eased the guardsman down to the ground, ears trained for the sound of more boots on cobblestone.

“I’m sorry…whatever gods you believe in, I hope they guide you safely.” He pulled up his hood and scarf, covering his face before he walked over to the Thalmor, picking up a bloodied piece of parchment from the corpse before putting his dagger in his teeth, springing up to catch hold of the edge of a roof to vault over the wall and vanish.

Moon-And-Stars – Giovanni/J’hasi/Shadows

thatimperialbastard:

Giovanni’s pupils zeroed in on the Khajiit when it made a dash for the campsite. Not even a second later did the Imperial launch himself towards his prey. “NOW YOU DIE, NEREVARINE!” He roared, gripping his hands into the Khajiits shoulder before slamming him into the ground, this time straddling the Suthay-Raht from behind. A cruel smile curled on the vampires bloodied lips when he pulled one of his daggers from its sheath.

Serves the bastard right, endangering Vvardenfell in such a manner. 

J’hasi yelped, stomach tense with the sharp jolt of terror before he was slammed to the ground, his ribs aching before the vampire’s weight settled on him again, making it hard to breathe. His initial gasp left him coughing at the inhaled ash, tears rising up with pain and exhausted terror as he tried to reach for his spear that was just too far to touch, his clawtips inches away from the bright metal. The Khajiit cried out, slamming his hand onto the ground when pain exploded in the back of his shoulder, an overwhelming burn of a blade sinking into the muscle ripping through his nerves.

His gaze darted around, trying to find something, ANYTHING that could help him, his tail swishing frantically as he tried to squirm away even as more blood pulsed from the added wound on his back. The Khajiit wasn’t sure if that puff of air at the back of his neck was real or not, but his eyes darted to the fire and the scattered coals and cinders at its edge, mind made up regardless.

J’hasi dug his fingers under the ash beneath them, flinging the glowing bits of charcoal behind him, desperately hoping it would hit the vampire somewhere painful. His blood was thundering in his ears and he could barely breathe, and he just wanted to get away from the nightmare holding him captive.

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