paellas: (Default)
Lucanis dellamorte ([personal profile] paellas) wrote in [community profile] timewasting2025-01-01 08:13 pm
fishfried: (oh)

[personal profile] fishfried 2025-02-04 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ her name is so short, without much room to linger. and yet, when it comes from Lucanis, there's something in the way his shapes the syllables. it feels like the warmth of a hearth, the primal comfort of being wrapped in a blanket. she's never considered herself a romantic, but she thinks maybe Lucanis could make her a believer.

(funny, how someone so adept at killing could nurture such a thing).

so, her name sits in the air between them, dissolving like honey in hot tea. there's more, she senses–the slightest inhalation of breath, the way the molecules settle as he holds it in. Neve cannot say she knows what he wants to continue with, only that it means a lot.

soon enough, his more calloused hand curls over hers, the pad of his thumb tracing her finer knuckles. his fingers are warm, even in the coolness of the storage room. she suppresses a shiver, dark eyes tearing away from their joined hands as he speaks up. ]


Okay, yeah. I would hate to have to explain to Tarquin that I'm in the middle of a serious discussion so he's not allowed in the cellar yet. Can't imagine he would be thrilled.

[ nor is she, really, at the thought of being interrupted. whether this goes where she's hoping or not–Lucanis is...well, he's snuck up on her. fitting, for the assassin of all assassins. but somehow, she isn't as bothered by the way he's slid the gentlest knife between the plates of her armor. it's as though there's a treasure under the rusted mail; the pearl of an oyster, but he wants to keep both intact.

she swallows down the rest of her wine and pushes herself out of her creaking chair, regretting the absence of his hand in hers.

(which is–she'll get back to that. later.)


Let me leave a note for the next shift, then we can go. Otherwise, Mae will start tearing all of Minrathous apart thinking I got kidnapped or something.
fishfried: (what do we have)

[personal profile] fishfried 2025-02-05 02:43 am (UTC)(link)
It's been attempted. Poorly, but attempted. Been a while though.

[ probably because they got wise to her being an accomplished mage. moreover: she was too well-connected. too entrenched in the community; so many owed her a favor or knew someone who owed her a favor. anyone who tried to carry her off would find an entire swathe of Dock Town blocking their way.

the thought warms her as much as it sobers her–those same people are suffering at the hands of the Venatori.

she pulls herself away from that dark path and leaves her note, packs up her meager belongings, and gratefully accepts the cloak that Lucanis drapes over her shoulders. it's a practical thing, being a darker color that didn't stand out like her standard whites and teals. the only problem with it, really, is that she has to stop herself from turning her nose towards the stiff collar. is she so sleep deprived and touch starved that she's dreamily inhaling the scent of Lucanis' cologne that sticks to the fabric? no. maybe.

well, okay, yeah.

it's much of what occupies her thoughts, alongside the steady warmth of his hand in hers, as they wind their way through the convoluted streets of Dock Town. she's called upon to get them past a few sticky parts, but otherwise their journey is fairly undisturbed.

as soon as they step through the eluvian and breathe the strange magic-laden air of the Fade, some of her tension lowers. more sloughs off when they cross the rippling silver of Treviso's eluvian and onto the sturdy dark stained wood of the Diamond's upper floor. there's a jab of envy, resentment, that this place is intact while her home isn't. but then guilt from the thought sweeps it away, leaving her chewing her lower lip while Lucanis sneaks them through the Diamond, clearly intent on avoiding being spotted by his fellow Crows.

once they both head into the suite (a whole suite, she marvels), the silence that follows the closing door is a balm that slides across her senses. and then suddenly, she acutely feels every hour she hasn't slept.

undoing her borrowed cloak (with a touch of reluctance, the same feeling she has when she lets go of his hand again), she perches on the all-too-plush bed, stretching her legs in front of her. ]


I think...I need to garner some strength before I end up accidentally drowning in a hot tub. [ brightening a bit, she shoots him a teasing smile. ] Unless you're playing lifeguard.
fishfried: (there's something else here)

[personal profile] fishfried 2025-02-09 12:53 am (UTC)(link)
Maybe. I think you're underselling yourself.

[ but, she lets it go after that, seeing his expression sober up. following his eyeline, she catches sight of Spite loitering near one of the large windows, where its curiously peering down towards the streets and canals. knowing Spite was not likely to cause much trouble at the moment, she turns her attention back to Lucanis, studying his face and waiting for what he was obviously gearing up to say.

it isn't...exactly surprising, when he admits to being worried. honestly, she had been worried, too. Minrathous had not been in a good way, during the dragon attack. and in the aftermath, she hadn't been sure she'd make it.

but, he goes on, after a moment of hesitation, and while she is tired, something in her is awoken, paying a great deal of attention to his words. Lucanis, she has observed, is not one to say things he doesn't mean. nor is he someone who is very open with his emotions, generally. so, the vulnerability in the moment is stark.

and yet, not unwelcome.

her heart squeezes in her chest, an ugly fear welling up right on the heels–an old story she's told herself–that she isn't worth it. that she only brings bad luck and hurt and pain. a string of losses behind her that feel endless. Neve swallows the words that want to spill forth, tentatively taking one of his hands in hers. ]


I don't really know what to say. But, I do know, despite everything, you've made me feel...listened to. Seen. Cared for. That–you mean more than I can express.
fishfried: (aren't you cute)

[personal profile] fishfried 2025-02-15 03:18 am (UTC)(link)
[ he doesn't balk, just as he hadn't earlier in the hideout, when she takes hold of his hand. their walk to the eluvian had seen them with linked hands as well but that was easier to pass off as practical.

though, clearly, both of them were feeling similar. it was too early to call love and to chalk it up to simple attraction felt inaccurate. there were softer feelings here, being cradled tenderly in the space between them. wrought by them working side by side, spending the small hours drinking coffee. or the times in the middle of battle, falling into a rhythm that had felt so natural. ]


I'm Tevinter, Lucanis, and not an altus or laetan and I cause enough trouble with my investigations to annoy all three mage classes.

[ she's made inroads with the slaves and soporati because she's typically helping them. but, that took time and plenty of effort. vints did not trust easily, not with their entire culture full of backstabbing and blood magic. ]

You didn't ask for a demon to get magically attached to your soul. [ Neve shrugs, as if that answers everything. ] Spite's pretty tame, as demons go.