fun fun – vvardenfellcat

Under Saarthal – Icarus/J’hasi

brothersofthedominion:

For once, Icarus actually learned his lesson. He nearly grasped the lever before pulling his hand away. Deep sockets neatly lined down each corner of the room. The mer was at least capable of catching on this time.

As the mer observed the room for more signs of a trap, something caught his eye- deep in the very back of the alcove, small indents could be spotted, too smooth to be natural weathering.

A… parrot? hawk?? bird-thing???

The Altmer leaned on the stone in front to observe a closer look, but found himself leaning a little too fast as the stone began to rotate under him. Followed with the sounds of excessive Altmeri surprise, Icarus nearly cracks his skull on… divines know whatever this bird stone-doodle was supposed to be.

Recomposing himself, he studies the rotating stone- Nah, that had to be a pillar of some form. It shifted far too smooth and easy to be natural at all. And there it was- animals on each side of the pillar- fish, snake, and bird.

Then it clicked in that advanced Altmeri brain of his.

Looking back and forth between the pillar and the wall, the mage shifted the pillar just as the bird hieroglyphs matched each other. Ready to pull the switch, he noted carvings on the other wall- A whale- or fish or something.

Right. There was a fish on the pillar from earlier.

After adjusting the pillar that it would match with the wall, he checked the previous rooms- noting that another bird hieroglyph was already matched- someone was already here most likely and messed it up perhaps?

Though really, how could anyone mess up something this simple?

Finding three more pillars and correcting them to their wall, the high elf eagerly made a beeline for the lever, giving it a impatient yank.

The justiciars eyes lit up when the gate lifted and a overly proud grin took over his elven features.

He stood up straight, hands clasped behind his back as he glanced at his Khajit partner.

“A-hem”

The Khajiit had stared levelly at the mer with terse patience as he fiddled with each column in turn, ears pulling back a touch more when the Altmer flipped the lever and looked back at him as if expecting praise when the gate retracted up into the wall. J’hasi pushed past him with a slight scowl.

“Congratulations, you can match shapes.” he muttered, heading around the bend in the hall down to a set of doors that led further into the barrow, not caring if the whelp followed or not. At this point he just wanted to get out of this place.

The next room was larger, more open, but unfortunately reeked just as much of death as every room and hallway prior. The Khajiit was starting to wonder just how far into the ground this place went. ‘Tolfdir did mention that this used to be a city…’ his mind recalled unhelpfully, grimacing at the thought. Who would want to live underground like this, with stale stagnant air and…? He’d just trotted up the wooden stairs that reeked of rot, only to catch the barest hint of movement and a groaning shudder, startled by the swing of an axe from a draugr.

He was glad that he didn’t squeak (though his breath did hitch sharply in his chest) as J’hasi let himself fall backwards through the next set of doors, hands touching the ground and springing him back up to his feet in the next room. The axe screeched against the door’s surface as the undead stumbled after him, following until he lunged forward and sliced into it. A hand snatched it by the side of its face, the Khajiit’s thumb digging into the underside of its jaw as he slammed it into the wall, hearing and feeling its neck break under his fingers.

He didn’t turn to look at the whelp, knowing that he had to calm down from the scare fast, lest that thrice-damned Altmeri brat catch on to his puffed tail and general unease about every undead thing crawling around in this place.

Even if the Thalmor whelp hadn’t noted his little…issue with the denizens of this undead city-turned-crypt, he’d been distracted enough with the appearance of one draugr (eyes firmly fixed on another body laying in a recess of the wall he needed to pass ahead of him) to neglect noticing the violet lines glowing softly on the floor in the next hall. Or the one right after he sprang onto it in sharp surprise from the first, though the second didn’t tingle so much as make his muscles seize, stealing the breath right out of his lungs, legs and stomach and everything jittering and twitching with hot pain as J’hasi fell against the wall, panting and squeezing his eyes shut.

He cracked his eyes open to see more stone pillars ahead on the other side of the room, gritting his teeth at another jolt of pain from the rune, wondering if he honestly preferred facing the undead in this place alone over with an audience he loathed.

((✗,�,✉ >:3 ))

Send ✗ to read a page about a nightmare they’ve had

3E 429, Solstheim

I thought that after a few years, my nightmares would’ve let up a little. They’re only getting worse. I’ve only recently been well enough to visit Nibani, and she seemed concerned that my nightmares have continued even after the death of Dagoth Ur. I left out the part about the lycanthropy, but what else could I do? It’s bad enough Shadows knows about it. He still sleeps with a silver dagger in his hand, like I’m going to murder him in the middle of the night and go feral.

This last one was different, though. Instead of the Heart Chamber and Ur and Akulakhan, I was standing on the edge of a rocky cliff looking over a molten landscape. I could see spiky structures in the distance, almost like Daedric shrines, but…much more massive, and too smooth to be stone. The air was cold, enough to get me shivering, and there was lightning crackling across the hellish red skies. I felt so afraid, like something horrible was about to happen, and then the cliff crumbled underneath me. I woke up when I hit the floor of my room.

Nibani said it didn’t sound like any place she knew of, and I’ve been all over Vvardenfell, and there weren’t any massive lava fields like in my dream to be found. I want to brush it off as nothing, but…it sticks out so clearly in my mind, and it scares me. I’m not going to risk it happening again tonight. Shadows can go sulk all he wants, I’m not going to go to sleep until I’m piss-drunk and can barely stand.

—-

Send � to read a page about something they’re worried about

4E 201, Skyrim

Why can’t I get magic to work? I know I can do it, I used to make fire come out of my hands all the time when I was a hatchling. But ever since I was allowed to do magic again…I can’t do it. I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to do, but it’s not working and it’s frustrating. What am I doing wrong? If I don’t master even the simplest of fire spells, then I’ll never have the chance of becoming a mage. It’s the only thing I’ve wanted to do with my life since I was a hatchling that I could still achieve.

I could ask the professors about it, I guess, but I already look like an ignorant idiot to Tolfdir I’m sure. He seems nice enough, but after that Thalmor brat and I fought in class and the fetcher nearly set him on fire, I don’t know if he would help me. I don’t want to talk to Colette any more than I have to. Or maybe I could ask…

Maybe not. I don’t know if he’s still irritable with me, and I still want to ask him about that crystal he used. Damn it.

—-

Send ✉ to read the most recently written page

[It’s less of an entry initially, having two groups of tally marks with a line dividing them, then short words and phrases, too smeared and scratched to make out, still with a line between them, then a short…’entry’?]

Start over. Forget and start over. Thalmor are never safe. No matter how ‘nice’.

₳

They’ll likely engage in sarcastic and biting banter back and forth when Dalamus either riles his fur or otherwise catches J’hasi off-guard. With J’hasi perched up on the nearest roof, balcony, or lamppost, that is. As there’s very few people who speak Dunmeris, he’ll usually snipe biting comments about his ‘condition’ in between insults spat out in Cyrodilic. J’hasi will take almost any opportunity to push the mer into the canal, or break a sheet of snow off a roof to fall on him, or other such related mischief if he manages to sneak up on him undetected, and if caught before he can do so, slip off to wherever he’s still in sight of the guards with a smirk on his face.

After all, he can’t just up and kill the guy since it seems the residents of Riften believe him to be a normal person. That would be murder. And he doesn’t have the time or the gold to pay for that. Plus exposing his secret would prompt the Dunmer to expose his own, which also is something he can’t afford to happen. Mutually assured destruction and all that.

He’s terrified of Dalamus because of his vampirism only. If he ever found out how Dalamus interacts with people (AKA not like a sadistic, undead, predatory cave-dweller that rips out people’s throats for sport, but rather just a mer dealing with a supernatural affliction), his hatred and fear of vampires would back down enough for him to see Dalamus as another person, rather than an undead corpse, thirsting for the lifeblood of the living. But…considering how things went last time…I don’t think that’ll happen for a while yet. :3

Last Night’s Dream

thatimperialbastard:

As the Dunmer made his attempts to wake the khajiit up, Giovanni tensed up at the realization that the ship was almost at arrival. The only way out was through the stairs in the next room. However, the Imperial guards would need to be out or distracted by someone or something. Even then, there may be too many of them. Judging by the light that lit the next room when he heard their door open, his heart stopped.

Shit.

Shit. shit. shit. shit. shit.

They were getting ready to pull prisoners out of the ship. He was not going to last long in that sunlight unless he found food or shade without having his cover blown. He needed to think, and think fast.

Jiub sighed.

“Just let me talk to them first this time, okay?” he said to the Khajiit, who nodded and rubbed at his eyes. The Dunmer looked to the Imperial next to him as the sound of boots above their heads neared the stairs at the end of the hall, floorboards creaking as their weight shifted. The kid yawned, looking tired and miserable as he shifted on top of his crate, crouching on top of it rather than laying on it.

When the guards came down the stairs and turned to face the room, the Khajiit tensed, ears flicking back as their harsh expressions were directed at him.

“Are you going to come quietly this time, furlicker, or do we have to tie you up again?” the man in front asked, an Imperial with a goatee and a scowl. The kid could see the rope in his hands and glared at him, ears flicked back. Jiub spoke up, stepping a little in front of the Khajiit before he did anything rash.

“He doesn’t understand Cyrodilic very well. He’s actually pretty polite, well-spoken even in…” The guard shoved the Dunmer aside, the guard in the doorway watching his fellow with a hint of irritation.

“Get out of my way, elf, or I’ll throw you overboard for the slaughterfish.” The Imperial guard looked at the kid on the crates.

“Now are you going to come quietly or not?” The Khajiit’s face twisted in a snarl before he shouted in heavily accented Cyrodilic.

“FUCK YOU, THTACHALXAN!” he spat. The guard snatched at the kid’s collar, dragging him off the stack of crates by his shirt.

“Do we have to teach you a lesson again? I can just tell the people here waiting for you that your transfer has been delayed and leave you on some godsforsaken island to rot.” The guard at the door sighed.

“We don’t have time for this, just get the kid moving, we’re on a tight schedule. You.” The word was directed at the Imperial prisoner.

“Keep behind the kid. Dunmer, you’re at the back. Let’s move this along and keep things civil, alright?” The Khajiit and the goateed guard glared at each other for a few moments before the man shoved the kid back against his crates.

“Single file, let’s move.” he grumbled before he headed for the door, the Redguard moving aside to let him pass, as well as the others. The Khajiit’s tail swished sharply back and forth until the Redguard gestured for him to follow the Imperial, to which the kid obeyed quietly, albeit with a scowl on his face.