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Player Name: Prince/Dave
Are you new?: Y
Character Name: Kaladin Stormblessed
Character Fandom: Stormlight Archives

[Action:

Kaladin’s training kicks in fast, and he’s out of the loose flowing white clothes in seconds, reaching for his weathered blue uniform - the fabric thick but well used, a little rough but familliar between his fingers. Thats when he feels them first - the wings, sprouting from his back, feathered like the strange chicken’s from Shinovar, and completely alien. Also, completely attached to his back. He’d grasped at them a few times, trying to make sense of it, but eventually left them alone - it hurts when he tugged on the feathers, but he seemed to have some control of them. He shifts on his uniform, glad that they nestle (albeit slightly uncomfortably) against his shoulder blades. At least they were out of sight. Nothing could be done for the way they itch, just slightly though. He straightens the silver buttons of his uniform a single time, tan fingers tracing the lines one final time. His trusty spear is also suspiciously missing, and he is in the middle of a forest. Both of these things are deeply unsettling. Especially seeing as the foliage doesn’t recoil from his touch - or, indeed, from any pressure at all. It just sits there, still, in all its leafy glory, and the ground isn’t hard stone like in Roshar - on the contrary, its soft like sand but denser. He places a hand against the bark of a tree, and takes in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. There is a faint breeze that seems to whistle past one ear, then he sees something that resembles tousled leaves. From it, Syl appears. She glows with a faint blue light, and lands gently on his shoulder, the short gust of wind subsiding as she crumples up like a delicate paperdoll. She takes the form of a young woman only a few centimetres in height, with a skirt that hits about her knees, and seems to sway in a breeze that isn’t quite there. She hunkers down quietly, and leans against the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t ask where her usual cheer has gone - the dissonance between this… place and their own world is explanation enough. But he is glad for her company.]

[Accidental Video:]

What is this thing? [Kaladin picks up the journal, flicking open a page. Its set up strangely, thats for sure. Also, as he speaks, the words seem to be appearing on the page - yes, words that he can actually read. He makes a startled noise, narrowing brown eyes and raising a brow and pulling an incredulous face at the book between his hands. Glyphs, sure, he had been proficient at - but words? Reading? That was a women's art. He had a feeling it had something to do with the feathery protrusions on his back. After all, they were the most alien addition on top of the list of already obscure experiences. He decides continuing the conversation can't hurt his situation.]

If anyone is here.. or can explain anything about this place, now would be the time to show yourself!

[ He sort of raises his voice at the last part, but it just seems to echo through what seems to be the vast expanse of forest. No use for it then - he starts up walking. He has the feeling he's got a long way to go before he gets an explanation for any of this. ]

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[ He has seen strange things, in the void. Dreams that were not quite dreams, reality that he couldn't trust as such. A tumult of the real and the not real that made him ever doubt both. For the water ran up, but the stone streets of Dunwall still felt true under his feet.

Not that this is Dunwall, or even a void-sick dream of the city he so often had. The clothes were foreign and quickly discarded for his own heavy blue uniform and he quickly went about getting himself away from any dangers. Instead he looks, for something familiar, something solid. To start there and work out, to try and tell this apart from the feverish nightmares he had grown so accustomed to.

Perhaps confusion to mirror his own will have to do. But if this was the void, save from the spirit that lived there and the dreams of men who were not there, he has never seen someone else to walk with him in such a place.

For that alone he approaches, where he might have done his best otherwise to ignore the other person and avoid him. Desperation made fast friends and he had a task to see to. The transversal was easily done, his hand glowing brightly before he landed a few meters away, making sure his footfalls were loud and pointedly there. But he would not remove his mask, not if there was a chance of being recognized. For his sake, and the other man's though, he kept his distance, a wary protection after all that he had seen and done. ]

Are you real?

Edited 2014-05-28 12:49 (UTC)

[ He spins to the source of the sound with a practise born of training - years spent expecting the sudden ring of combat bells, and nights laying awake expecting attack would do that to a man. Syl huddles herself a little closer to his collar, but blinks owlishly. She is invisible to most, but a scarce few - those whom she chooses to show herself to, or those with a specific sight for spirits who would otherwise remain unseen. Kaladin thinks little of it, and wishes he had his spear. Anything between himself and this stranger, and that unsettling mask of his. That sort of get-up isn't the kind any normal stranger would wear. It reeks of disguise, and the subtle grace with which the man moves hints at the art of being unseen.

This is no ordinary stranger.]

Yes.

[ Kaladin barks the short reply, lowering his stance slightly and grounding himself. He sizes himself up against his opponent even from the distance, and takes a few steps forward - carefully constructed to be confident. He gropes about in the pocket of his uniform for his knife, and finds it unsurprisingly missing. Whoever had knocked him out and taken him here had done a thorough clean out of his inventory - Storm them, whoever they were. ]

So. Are you an assassin of some kind? From the look of your outfit, I can only think that your profession. That, or a very grim looking court Wit.

[ He wasn't even sure if the man would understand the reference - while his uniform seemed disarmingly similar to the one he wore, the subtle nuances were fairly pronounced. The King's new Wit ending up here, in the middle of this strange place with no one to bother but Kaladin himself would be a cruel and unsurprisingly humourless turn of events. Things involving Wit's often were.]

[ A fighter then, and Corvo's posture shifts to match. His weight rolling forward onto the balls of his feet and curses as his hand reaches for missing blades.

His powers would do in a pinch, though he would ever prefer of the blade across skin, if it came to that. There was more surety to that action than almost anything else to define life by. ( the thump, thump, thump of the heart in his pocket could attest to that. )

The word of assassin comes forth from the other man -- and more than anything else, that tells the truth of him. Truth of him too, and he was thankful for the mask. For the sneer that came with hearing himself called the same as the man that had made him no more than shell and bone and death. ]

Some call me that. [ and none that he cared for the opinion of. Only that if it meant he held their fear in a skulls cool regard, and their suffering for it, then so be it. Let them call him assassin. ] And you? A guard?

[ a slight perhaps, to call a man so similarly dressed, lower than he might be. But he cared little for ceremony these days, and far more brazen words had passed his lips of late. ]

Captain of the King's guard, actually.

[ He retorts, though these is little pride to his voice. He might guard the king, but it was not the king he was loyal to. But he had dealt with assassin's before - and he had killed men who seemed more dangerous than this. The man approaches with no shardplate or blade, and whether it is because he feels he needs neither or because they were taken from him Kaladin cannot say. But he notes the grasping for a weapon not there, and can take the hint well enough. He is not the only one who has been displaced.

Syl, fortunately enough, thinks this a good time to float up, just past Kaladin's ear. She leans a little closer to him, almost conspirationally and manages to whisper,] He doesn't seem very friendly. I suppose he must have been rather unceremoniously have been shoved from the wrong side of the grave. You know, with the whole.. [ She makes a gesture to his whole face mask. She seems curious, if a little put off by it.] Un-dead thing he is working.

[ Kaladin hides the smile at her words, and shakes his head - the motion making Syl dart atop his head, her eyes never leaving the stranger. He doesn't lower his guard, but doesn't circle any closer either.]

But my title means little with no king's around. So unless you've come for my head instead, I feel we have very little to fight over.

[ Not that he had any intentions of trusting the man. But gaining what little information on this strange place would be unendingly helpful. ]

Edited 2014-05-28 14:08 (UTC)

Captain.

[ It was said with as much respect as could be afforded. Spirits take him should he ever grow to be impolite. His head dipped in greeting, a mockery in and of itself, but acknowledgement all the same.

If he hears the strange creature or not, there was no reaction to it. Regardless, he had been called worse. For things he hadn't done, for his mark, for being too loyal. He simply stood, without pause and without break. ]

You are no enemy of mine, else you would not have your head. [ it was simply put. ]

[ Kaladin tips his head in return, a stiff little gesture. He feels it is probably the right thing to do, whether or not the man had mean't his niceties. He had light eyes snarl his title through bared teeth for most of the few months he had been afforded the station, and sneered worse names when he had had no standing at all. This man could be a light eyes, but with the mask on there was no way Kaladin could tell.

All the better. Mean't he didn't have to bother with all the bowing and boot licking that spoilt nobility expected. Besides, he had yet to see any princeling, lord or noble alike to wear such a grim get up. Whatever station this man had once held, it was very obviously not something he was bound to now.

Syl, confident they were no longer fighting or in any danger, floats leisurely through the air - she spins like a leaf tipped in the wind, hovering just slightly closer and inspecting their new acquaintance.]

I think you'd find my head stubbornly fond of my shoulders.

[ One didn't get a title like Stormblessed for nothing. Deciding to defuse the hostility a little, he relaxes just slightly, hands comfortably at his side and back straight. Stretched to his full height he graces 6 ft tall, and all of him lean muscle. ]

So I take it you aren't a local resident of the area? I was hoping to get some bearings, or at least directions to the closest town.

[ Pleasantries were better served when situations were less pressing, but apparently this man he'd met, was in much the same situation he was.

Stranded, alone.

Threats and pride could wait. And he took his time in reply, weighing the options, and finding himself without many. He took a breath and ignored the way his bones ached when he shifted his weight. ]

I thought you a spirit. [ behind his mask, privately he was still half convinced the man was, watching the strange spirit of his wonder. Light like the air, and he restrained the urge to pull the heart free from where she beat restrained. Over and against his own.

She felt more than he did, these days. ]

I saw a town. But I strayed no closer to it to tell of the people that may be there.

Just a man like any other. Spirits don't seem to have quite as bad luck as us mortals.

[ He doesn't try to pass the comment off as a joke, but offers a hand for a shake. They are both unarmed. There is little danger to the gesture.]

The town sounds like our best bet for some answers, at least.

I'm Kaladin. And you?

[ He couldn't not help but to laugh. His body shook, not in mirth, but a tree bent to a cold wind, the sound of it grating. Twisted as the white trees that grew in the tower, so long warn down.

Dry and bitter and wretched. ]

Perhaps, I will believe your naivety.

[ Perhaps, and only perhaps. For no creature of the void, no thing twisted by the Outsider, would ever say that and sound so sincere.

( What have they done to me? ) His hand raised, hand to chest, like any loyal man before a flag, and he begged her silence, begged her to be still, (and kept her voice so carefully close) gave her the same false promises he had in life. ]

Assassin will do. [ he had no reason to give his name, not when he damned him and he could not be sure. ]

[ Kaladin lets him have his laughter, and retracts the hand. He supposes he deserves it, though naivety is not how he would phrase it. He doesn't bother trying to prove the man wrong, and instead, begins to head in the direction from where the Assassin came. At the tone of the laugh, Syl shrinks back - she no longer seems to have her light hearted curiosity, and instead sits quietly holding to the lapel of Kaladin's collar. She does not like this man. Does not like the feel she gets off him, or the sense of something distinctly wrong. She cannot place a finger on it, but so far, she jots it down to his heart beat.

The double heart beat, that is.]

Suit yourself. So, assassin, if you're not from here, then where? Do you remember exactly how you got here?

[ He gives the man wide berth to walk around him. Hands stiffly by his side. The strange mark upon his hand shimmering dully with the same precarious itch that hummed like the void beneath his skin. A constant reminder that it would one day swallow them all.

His eyes met the spirits, for all that he looked at her from behind cold metal, he did not doubt she saw him under it all. He'd learned now, that nothing was kept from them. ]

Keep walking straight. [ It wasn't much, but as he kept even step with Kaladin as he headed back with him. ]

Edited 2014-05-28 15:31 (UTC)

[ Kaladin keeps his eyes straight, taking the lead. If his companion wanted to keep these things to himself, so be it. He found that prying often only agitated - besides, what kind of assassin freely gave his secrets? A poor one, at best, and a dead one at worst. The captain knew what he needed, and having agile and capable company would be enough.

The thought that this could all be some elaborate trap crossed his mind, and he made sure to take extra care - keeping himself exactly 3 paces ahead and taking many the precursory glance. Though the terrain was foreign and the noises completely bizarre, he felt a little assured in the knowledge that they would probably not run afoul any of the monsters from his home - no whitespines or chasmfiends to worry about. Just the curious little shelless, feathered creatures which flitted through the tree tops. The way the leaves stayed out still bothered him - what happened when a highstorm came? Did they even have high storms here? - but he pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind.

Syl, on the other hand, was not content with simply sitting by. With a resolution born of stubbornness, and armed with a childlike curiosity, she gathered her courage and swooped gently from her place at Kaladin's shoulder. She had no weight, so he didn't feel her go - but she rustled, just slightly, like branches in the wind, as she curiously poked about the stranger. His double pulse troubled her. She had yet to meet any man nor spren who ticked quite like this, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. She flits about him for a moment, never resting still, till she finds the source. His chest. She flies up, in front of him, and for a moment, her breeze goes still. Her dress hangs limp about her knees, her hair so long it falls and curls about her feet. As though she is standing on an invisible floor that isn't quite there.

Then she reaches out a tiny, slightly translucent hand, and it sinks through the fabric of the man's jacket, and her finger tips touch it.

Her hand rests, just lightly, on the second heart.]

[ He doesn't think much of it at first, his eyes ahead on the road, and every so often, flick back to Kaladin, gauging his movements, learning him as carefully as he learned the tower guards.

He says nothing when the spirit moves closer, only to watch her too. Her curious glance, the way she shifted and danced closer.

There's no reaction, in the end, he doesn't rage and spill blood, not for this. There was no fighting a spirit. He simply swallowed the old pain (and new still, like a wound that could never close), and he heard the heart breath.

( I will be glad to rest ) And it double thumbed against his chest, cold and familiar. She sighed and wept and laughed and bubbled like time itself kept contained. ]

Leave her be, she has seen enough. [ Though in the end, even as he walks, he doesn't shove the strange spirit free. He simply stands, feet planted like he might take root. ]

[ Syl blinks, slowly, tiny hand still resting against the heart. She hears the woman's voice too, contained and trapped as it is in that wretched vessel, and tears herself away. It reminds her of shardblades, and she hears the voice of her people, of spren, trapped and contained within swords and then used for awful, awful things. She shudders, and insteads hugs herself tightly, as if caught in a chill. The short exchange catches Kaladin's attention, and he pauses long enough to flick a glance over his shoulder - Syl had appeared to people before, but usually, only if she deemed them worthy, or they specifically asked. She must be in full visibility for him, and she inches closer, hovering just before the nose of the mans mask. The captain doesn't falter in his stride however - if Syl wanted to commune with their masked companion, so be it. ]

You need to let her free. [ Syl states, voice small and quiet like the echo of a breeze. She stays there, still and motionless, her gaze pointed fixedly at the heart. Something dark was keeping her there. The little spren didn't like it at all. ]

[ His head tilted up and away, wary of having her so close. She was not of any realm he knew, and after the things he had seen done in the dark, he would not risk having her close enough to do him harm.

Do her harm.

( he could not lose her again ). ]

She is not mine to free. [ He hadn't done it to her, and he had no idea how she had come to be. Only that after days the sickening reality of it all sunk in, and by then, he already needed her too much. But he had always, always needed her. ]

[ Syl nods, just once, as if she understands, and looks very sombre. She's still hovering just infront of his nose, but the breeze that she always has seems to curl about her once more, making her skirts shift and hair flow. She nods a few times, as if thinking things over. Before looking back to him solemnly. ]

She seems very sad, to be stuck in there. But I think, once, she was very strong. Very just.

She would have wanted you to be, too.

[ his teeth grit and his words were a sharp bark. He was harsh because he had to be, must be, because it was all that was left to him, and he could not stand to see what rested underneath. ]

Desist, shade. [ he'd have drawn a blade if he thought it would help. ]

[ Syl huffed, affronted at being called a shade, her advice rather obviously ignored. She flits back to Kaladin's shoulder, and hunkers down there, comfortably tucking herself into the collar of his uniform.

Kaladin doesn't bother chancing a glance back at his companion, but does throw back a comment.]

So, you mentioned spirits before. Are there monsters lurking in the woods we should be wary of?

[ It seemed a legitimate enough concern. After all, the man had questioned if Kaladin was even real - that either spoke of madness, or spirits, or perhaps a combination of both. ]

[Iroh is meanwhile training in the forest. After the last draft, it helped take his mind off all that happened. There was purpose and simplicity in training. The physical exertion was only part of what he was training though. He needed to strengthen his mind as well, though that would wait until he finished his current work out.

He lifts himself with one arm from a sturdy tree branch, moving up and down in a steady controlled pace until he pauses for a second. Something or something is up. After switching to his other arm, he drops down, landing carefully.]

Hello. Who is out there?

[ At the sound of a voice, Kaladin edges a little farther into the forest. Between the trees he can make out a figure, and he trots over - trying not to think about how strange the whole affair is. When he gets a little closer, he sees what seems for all intensive purposes, a portly elderly man, seemingly alone. Cautiously optimistic he approaches the seemingly unarmed man, raising a hand in greeting. He feels his wings shift a little beneath the fabric of his coat, almost an excited little flutter - and he has to stop a minute just to wrangle them back into place. It takes some considerable force of will to feel them fold back down uncomfortably, but its worth it. Wouldn't want to be making strange first impressions after all.]

'Lo there!

[ He calls, before inspecting the man further. Syl slips past his shoulder and floats almost lazily over before shooting a smile back at Kaladin. At least she seems to have no qualms about approaching the stranger.]

I'm a little unfamiliar with the terrain here. I was looking for the nearest town so I might find my bearings..

[Iroh has no such qualms about his wings, and they are quite open and visible. He raises a bit of an eyebrow at Kaladin as he approaches. Everyone tended to react a little differently when they first arrived. ]

I see, a new arrival to Luceti.

[He wasn't in as social mood as he normally would be, but the initial experience was jarring, so he would put aside his own problems for the time being]

Well, there is only one town here, and it is not particularly large. I'd wager you have found yourself in a place that would not be on any map from your lands.

[ Kaladin blinks slowly, digesting the information. From what he understood, no maps highlighting from here to there would indicate no way home. His bridgemen, his promises... for however long he remained here, would stay unfulfilled. Who would guard the Kholin family, the king? Teft could probably manage his men, but he knew they stood no chance against... He pauses the line of thought, realizing he had stopped communicating for a good few minutes.

It would be good to glean as much information as he could from this seemingly helpful old man. He notes the feathery protrusions on his new companions back, too. Those were obviously at the centre of all of this. ]

I.. see. And we are trapped here? With.. these?
[ He hefts out the strange book from where he'd stashed it, in one of the deep pockets of his uniform. He is about to flip it open and ask questions about the weird words that appear when he speaks, and all the other obscure little functions, when he finds the pages unable to open. Stuck together, and refusing to come apart. He tries to tug at them a little, and as soon as he touches it.. his fingers stick too. From over Iroh's shoulder he hears Syl's tinkling laughter, and she grins at him gleefully. She'd flown right past him, and alighted with glee upon Iroh's shoulder. She gives Kaladin a contented little wave, and he looks at her rather pointedly. He'd say something, but appearing out of nowhere and then speaking to thin air would probably not help his first impression. Syl laughs again, but with a final wave of her hand, the pages come unstuck and the journal flips open. Finally.]

Before I'd arrived, I'd never read and now.. [ He looks rather pointedly at the page, every word he speaks appearing before him. ] Now it seems I can't stop. What sort of spren is controlling this place?

[He glances as the young man comes to a sort of understanding about the words. It was a jarring thing coming to an entirely different world from your own. Iroh had the benefit of at least going to the spirit world before, and having some experience with strange, as well as world travel. For those without such experiences, it must be a shock to the system.]

Yes, the journals serve as a way to communicate to other people. Think of it as instant messages which can be transmitted to anyone who has one of these journals. They can be in written, vocal, or even showing the individual and scenery around them. A function known as video.

[That word still sounded very unfamiliar in his tongue, but he had been told it was the correct one]

I assume by spren, you mean like the charming little one who is around you?

While we do have spirits which may have similar attributes, they do not control the place, merely inhabit it. We are controlled here by a group known as the Malnosso.

[ A little, but not overly surprised the man could see her, Kaladin nodded. At least it seemed, she could join in this conversation. At being called charming, Syl titters again, and spins into view, hovering in front of Iroh's nose and peering at him interestedly. She gives him a sweet little smile, before saying,..]

Totally charming! I'm a great many other things too, which I'm sure you can tell. If you wanted to compose a poetic and comprehensive list I would very definitely be up for listening to it!

[ Kaladin simply shakes his head fondly, holding up a hand so she might gently perch atop it. She sits delicately, skirts flowing about her knees and crosses her legs.]

Ah, yes. That would be Syl. Though don't get too carried away with compliments or you'll never hear the end of it.

[ Storms that was strange. Video? This little book was full of surprises.
The world, however, not so much.]

So we are to be slaves here?

[ The words carried a haggard sort of bitterness. He had been in situations like this too many times before. ]

Edited 2014-05-30 01:27 (UTC)

[Iroh chuckles a little at her words]

I'll be sure to write a haiku sometime.

[He strokes his beard smoothing it out with his fingers]

I will certainly try to keep that in mind.

[There is a weighing look on Iroh's face as he looks at Kaladin. It certainly could be considered some sort of servitude, though not nearly as direct as slavery]

Hmmmm, that could be a word for it. We are more accurately prisoners, who are occasionally called to fight in a war for the Malnosso, although you can also volunteer to do so in return for benefits earned up over time. Additionally, there are some non-combative roles one can volunteer for.

[He takes a small breath before continuing]

The village itself is largely autonomous, food is provided, as well as shelter and various household items. Generally speaking, we work on a volunteer basis since there is no monetary system in place.

[ Syl seems rather excited at the prospect, though has no idea what a haiku is. Whatever it is, it definitely sounds a good thing to have written about you. She nods affably and decides to settle herself atop Iroh's head, leaning against his top knot.

Kaladin's expression only darkens as he is informed of the situation of the town.]

A padded prison is still a cell. I don't imagine any of the benefits ever amount to freedom, do they?

[ Kaladin sighs. He'd not even introduced himself and was already getting bitter about the entire predicament. This man had been nothing but understanding. He seemed a decent fellow.]

I'm Kaladin, by the way. And you are..?

Edited 2014-05-30 02:50 (UTC)

Not at all. People have been here for many years, and no freedom has been had.

[He inclines his head politely]

My name is Iroh, nice to meet you Kaladin.

[Although not quite the same as the land bordering the Hidden Leaf, the forest terrain was an environment Shino was most intimately familiar with. More often than not, he could be found whiling away his time amongst the foliage training, or indulging in his favourite hobby: bug hunting.

Today was one of such days. Equipped with a plastic terrarium and the necessary tools, he slowly combed his way through the underbrush, mindful of sending any insects skittering away. Cataloging the species found in the area was his own self-assigned mission, and one that seemingly had no near end in sight. The place was teeming with bugs. His kikaichu included. Shino had spread them out to cover a couple hundred metres around him, moving outward in every direction. Any interruption within the confines of his marked perimeter? Shino would instantly be alerted to it.

As such, when the kikaichu detect a new, large presence appearing out of seemingly nowhere, he paused his research to send more insects to investigate. Some just inconspicuously hang about to relay information to their host, and a handful coming to rest on the unknown presence's person.]

Edited 2014-05-29 10:31 (UTC)

[ Kaladin was not squeamish. He had seen all sorts of cremling crawl through chull dung, and been ankle deep in chasm water combined with the gristly corpses of half decomposed men. He had shifted through battle wound and fiddled with infected injuries.

But not once had he ever looked down to his booted foot being swarmed with bugs.

He doesn't squeal so much as he nearly jumps so high he takes flight - little wings trapped beneath his shirt squirming and frantic to be free and flap. Unfortunately, they do not kick in, and he trips rather unceremoniously into one of the thick, hard trunks of the trees with leaves that stay out all the time.

This was unfortunately not a good move - the bug rush forward in a little mass of moving, scuttling, squirming black, and this time Kaladin does yelp. It is more of a battle yelp then one of surprise, however, and rather then turn from the face of bug battle, he pushes himself upright and charges - taking out a fair few beneath his boots.

Syl floats lazily overhead, laughing at his unfortunate, buggy calamity.]

[Most react unfavourably. However, he wasn't expecting such a strong response from the newcomer. Shino closed his eyes (not that anyone could even tell from behind his dark shades), silently mourning the loss of the poor bugs that perished in the battle vs the boot, crushed with one swift stomp. It seemed a potential incident was afoot. Apart from Shino himself, the unidentified individual was the sole outsider amongst the natural inhabitants of the forest. He'd be quick at their heels.

Molding chakra for the technique, he recalled some of the insects nearby to form a bug clone. An exact replica of himself in terms of appearance. Some would think it impolite to send a substitute instead of revealing one's true self, but Shino was a ninja, and a fairly competent one at that. He would approach the stranger on his own terms. Keeping a card up his sleeves, so to speak. And so, the clone was sent forward, emerging out of the thicket with an expression that betrayed nothing.

... Meanwhile, the original Shino continued on in his search for a particularly rare butterfly.]

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(no subject)

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i cannot believe this is so cute and MATCHING UNIFORMS??? obvs gonna be bros

GUNNA BE SO GREAT also he's high chaos be warned he's crazy to say the least

oh my god i. kaladin is so screwed

he's mostly. well. he has a code. we'll go with that. SURE AS HELL DON'T HAVE HONOUR NO MORE

it is funny you mention that as you have just stumbled across Mr. Honour of the year 5 yrs running

gdi Kaladin you make him feel old as balls

flexes young n hot bod and waggles eyebrows

gently smothers him with pillows

wriggles in a young n hot way n uses winkin powers thru pillow

8[ beats to death with pillow instead

bite the pillow im.. getting.. beaten???

fear the mighty assassin

death by pillow is not super fear inducing

look he could make it a broom. death by broom. would that be better.

slightly better. kaladin could probably use that broom. hes mighty useful with long shafts of wood.

... possess him and makes him throw himself into the sea

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Action Oh Kaladin.

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Being able to see spirits, would Iroh be able to see Syl?

yeah that was what i was thinking :3!! maybe she will find him some nice tea flowers... or.. poison

As long as he thinks it could be tea he'd go for it

well it would definitely not be intentionally poison. shes just not super good at plants

Yeah, well evidently Iroh isn't a hundred percent at plants either

They can bumble through plant biology.. together!!

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why do threads with shino always start with mass murder of insects

no idea, he probably gets a kick out of it. (i'm sorry for shoe puns)

(no subject)

no subject

i cannot believe this is so cute and MATCHING UNIFORMS??? obvs gonna be bros

GUNNA BE SO GREAT also he's high chaos be warned he's crazy to say the least

oh my god i. kaladin is so screwed

he's mostly. well. he has a code. we'll go with that. SURE AS HELL DON'T HAVE HONOUR NO MORE

it is funny you mention that as you have just stumbled across Mr. Honour of the year 5 yrs running

gdi Kaladin you make him feel old as balls

*flexes young n hot bod and waggles eyebrows*

gently smothers him with pillows

wriggles in a young n hot way n uses winkin powers thru pillow

8[ beats to death with pillow instead

bite the pillow im.. getting.. beaten???

fear the mighty assassin

death by pillow is not super fear inducing

look he could make it a broom. death by broom. would that be better.

slightly better. kaladin could probably use that broom. hes mighty useful with long shafts of wood.

... possess him and makes him throw himself into the sea

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Action Oh Kaladin.

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Being able to see spirits, would Iroh be able to see Syl?

yeah that was what i was thinking :3!! maybe she will find him some nice tea flowers... or.. poison

As long as he thinks it could be tea he'd go for it

well it would definitely not be intentionally poison. shes just not super good at plants

Yeah, well evidently Iroh isn't a hundred percent at plants either

They can bumble through plant biology.. together!!

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why do threads with shino always start with mass murder of insects

no idea, he probably gets a kick out of it. (i'm sorry for shoe puns)

flexes young n hot bod and waggles eyebrows