❛ oh, look at you, an attempt at greatness! pity it’s just an attempt. ❜ // @spiderwarden
In an instant, he has spun about on his heel to face her, uncaring if any of their companions might see as the quiet, indignant rage of centuries at last reaches its ignition point.
Drawn up to his full height, he towers over the smaller drow.
His height and frame—so unnatural to the drow race—had served him well in the Underdark. That coupled with his skill and strength had made him difficult to oppose and even more difficult to kill among other males. It had continued to keep him alive even after he had been sold to settle his matriarch's debt and forced to fight in those gladiatorial matches put on for the matriarchs and their female spawn for sport.
Drow females were the ones who taught him to bow his head and to make himself small and to avert his eyes from them lest they decide that he needs reminding of his place.
Drow females who made it clear that he was a plaything for their mercurial whims, a tool towards their egomaniacal ends, and a weapon to wield and to point in whatever direction they so chose.
Drow females for whom he fought against other drow and all manner of other creatures simply for the right to keep his life, that they might be entertained.
Drow females who looked upon him and spoke to him just as this one does now.
Shoulders squared back and every muscle tensed and ready for the potential consequences to the retort already loaded on the tip of his tongue, he rather pointedly lowers himself that he might meet her eye to eye.
"We stand no longer in Menzoberranzan, Baenre, nor in any other place where I need tolerate you speaking to me in such a manner," he all but hisses, teeth nearly bared and pulse already pounding in his ears.
[ This is not done. It simply is not done. Centuries of living in the dark of that city scream at him to cease this, but he will not listen now, no matter how well he knows the danger of it. He is a slave no longer. ]
"You hold no power over me. We are both of us in equal standing now: forsaken."
add + to reverse so receiver is the one cleaning blood off sender.
True Soul Nere of Baldur's Gate III. Independent. Private. Selective. Roleplay/Writing Account. Written by Walden.
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people? caring for me? loving me? sticking around? sounds fake must be after something
The laugh that follows her question is sudden and sharp and unkind, yet how amusing it all is!
Before, she would have been in peril because he was under the thrall of some mind-flayer scheme. And now? Now, even should he wish to do so—and why would he?—he lacks any and all ability to draw upon the magicks that his pact with the Absolute had bestowed unto him. The laugh is double-edged and slices him, also, to the core.
The reason, how-ever, is not one he intends to share. He had done well covering his powerlessness since leaving Grymforge. He has no intention of revealing his predicament now.
"Safe with me?" he repeats, every syllable measured and serrated.
"I do not think that you could have asked a more insipid question if you had tried to find one."
Let her assume the reason for his scathing remark: that he feels not the slightest indebted to her, that he has no attachment to any of these ridiculous fools, that he would just as soon let them all suffer the consequences of whatever asinine decision they might next make and take the artifact for himself.
She can think whatever she likes. It is no matter to him.
[ He knows the truth. ]
How are you feeling?
I won’t play your psychological games
change pronouns, tenses and other details as deemed necessary. & please specify muse when sending to a mumu.
“It’s said the white warrior will be able to manipulate fire.”
“For even the very wise cannot see all ends.”
“In order to create light, you must first live in light.”
“On the quarter moon when you hear the third owl's call, remember, only a sacrifice of blood may save you.”
“The words were: "what you dream, what you darkly desire, find it by trial or by fire".”
“I saw Doom... but of the most beautiful kind.”
“In a rain of fire and from the ashes of destruction, an heir shall ascend.”
“One to be a murderer, the other to be martyred, one to be a monarch, the other to go mad.”
“Wisdom's daughter walks alone.”
“Prophecy is slippery, dangerous, open to fatal misinterpretation.”
“Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.”
“Until something is prophesied, it cannot be built.”
“The sky will fall, a star will rise.”
“Mother of many, Mother of none, a Queen will fall and a Warrior will come.”
“Run from it all you like, it's pointless. Your future is, and always will, be as it was written... from your first heartbeat to your last, neither you nor I can escape.”
“Beware the darkness of dragons, beware the stalker of dreams, beware the talons of power and fire, beware one who is not what she seems.”
Unless he has a very good reason to go about in the daytime--responsibilities or someone that he tends to be around who keeps a daytime schedule--Nere will absolutely become a nocturnal being if he stays Above following the events of the game as he decides that he thoroughly hates the sun and the brightness of daytime. Honestly, the sky in general quietly terrifies him the first time he's Above (and, y'know, in his right mind to where he can really pay attention to it). He's used to the "ceiling" of the Underdark, no matter how far up it may go. Being Above and there being just vast amounts of nothingness overhead is kind of a terrifying prospect. He absolutely ended up with some variation of agoraphobia and he was definitely feeling it for a while until he grows more accustomed to it. Even some time after the fact, it still occasionally catches him if he thinks about it. It isn't quite full-blown panic attack levels, but more of a slight tightness to chest and higher awareness sort of thing. [ And if the vast open nothingness of space overhead freaks him out, just imagine his reaction the first time the clouds open up in a total downpour. Drops falling from rocks overhead in the Underdark? Sure. Fine. Water POURING DOWN from the sky? Absolutely horrifying the first time it happened. ] He really never does get fully used to it---the weather, the general brightness, and, specifically, THE SUN---and I think, to some degree or other, he will always miss the Underdark, regardless of the pain and suffering he experienced there. Certainly, he reaches the conclusion that Lolth and the culture he grew up in are Not Great [it takes time, but when the difference of how he is treated is like the night to the day, it happens faster than one might expect, once he decides it's genuine], but the Underdark was and is still where he considers to be home. [ In the case of the self-contained verses and the story I'll never write, I do think that Asha's wonder at the stars makes an impression on him. He likes to hear her talk about the constellations and to tell the stories of them. If there's anything good about the sky, it's the stars, and that is about as far as he'll go. ] Best case scenario? Someone take him to the Arcane Tower and let him make a place for himself there. No bad memories like from Grymforge. Not even close to Menzoberranzan. And it certainly isn't like Lenore will be using it ever again. And he does still want to learn magic, so he would have plenty of space to do so, and, while he learns, the ability to protect against people who already use magic as well. It's really one of the only places in the Underdark that he might feel relatively safe.
"you're the writer, you control how the story goes" no not really. i wrote the first sentence and then my characters said "WE WILL TAKE IT FROM HERE" and promptly swerved into an electrical fence.
“Pick your battles. Pick… pick fewer battles than that. Put some back. That’s too many.”
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