Inseparable would have become the word of the day, or rather, something that found itself on the tips of tongues in silent agreement between the studious pair over the course of months; one with hair of gilded morning light and the other inky midnight. The library, which had opened its doors to allow many a curious person to plunder the textual depths, had become a success not only within the small Gilnean comprised town but for members of the Serpentine Kiss - at least that was until they disappeared. But, with the company of questionables having taken their work underground, it did not stop such things as story-time corner with Leonaess Dawnbinder, who once a week gathered the little ones of the town and treated them to baked goods,...

Inseparable would have become the word of the day, or rather, something that found itself on the tips of tongues in silent agreement between the studious pair over the course of months; one with hair of gilded morning light and the other inky midnight. The library, which had opened its doors to allow many a curious person to plunder the textual depths, had become a success not only within the small Gilnean comprised town but for members of the Serpentine Kiss - at least that was until they disappeared. But, with the company of questionables having taken their work underground, it did not stop such things as story-time corner with Leonaess Dawnbinder, who once a week gathered the little ones of the town and treated them to baked goods,...

Peering, golden thin, and vibrant was the rising sun greeting the chilled coastal seaside where Leonaess’ small camp had been settled along eastern coastline. Roseate shades chasing away the twilight violet as the winking sparks in the sky started to fade.

The fire was a simmering thing of ash and molten veined wood, bodily indentations in deep impression alongside it before two pairs of footprints lead back to where the meager shelter had been pitched. Languid in an utterly relaxed position was the lounging figure of the manipulator, suggesting utter trust and safety in surroundings.

"Well done - you've proven me wrong. There is still -something- worth saving, here."

Before the touch of tawny lashes flutter low, the watchful...

The blood began to well from the slash made across glittering ivory palm, trickling in a deep carmine off the tip of lithe manicured finger. Plip, plopping to fill a short test tube that was held by the steady hand of the aura soother. Satisfied with the amount, a cork stoppered the greedy vial and slipped it into an envelope along with a golden, curling strand that had been cut from the sunshine waves coming to frame the determined face of Leonaess.

Scrawled in a flowing, elegant script across the face of envelope:

“  Assurance.  “

The morning haired gypsy paused in her travels to see that her twisted little letter was sent to a hideously beautiful monster that no doubt already knew which way she’d lean. Setting out...

The starkness of the faded floral skeleton on her desk gave her pause, catching herself staring at the crumpled, curled in leaves and the petals that retained their resolute curl in a bud; trying in vain to retain some life within. It had drawn mind to the note attached, brows furrowing as if she still contemplated her answer even though knowing deep down there was something darker that lurked urging her further towards whatever end waited in tainted woods.

A deep inhale, moving from nostrils where it flared to guide in an expansion and expelling of the stress and worries that collected heavy on slim shoulders, steps took her towards a travel pack and her favored satchel. An extra set of clothing, a pair of boots, and a beautifully...

Oily rich petals, intoxicatingly wicked with fel taint floated and drifted incessantly about her mind. Thoughts swirling much like the moonwell, trying in vain to fight against seeping corruption before gurgling and spitting out poisonous fumes as the purity was drained. It hurt her somewhere deep down, watching that female’s spidery digits crush and maim the sickened flora with such pleasure. How she hated the Kaldorei people, how she despised anyone who opposed the great Sin’dorei faction, gilded and burning beneath the blazing sun till crimson spilt bloody.

And yet, Leonaess hadn’t lifted a finger to stop Lydira, her stomach coiling into knots that made her feel terribly sick. Not helpless but...fascinated by how easy Elune...

Everything seemed to be touched with a silver halo. A moonlit decadence of the impending night that lingered on each blade of grass and leafy branch - fireflies starting their golden dance on a subtle breeze that caught everything up in a float. Leonaess moved as if the circadian rhythm ruled her body, hips cast in hypnotizing sway with the slow accentuation of feminine curves and wiles - all for whom? There was a youthfulness to the fluttering of her heart, a rising color in cheeks as the white witch cast a flickering glance upward with coy attentions from beneath the weight of thick lashes.

“ What are you grinning about? “ His voice was calm, tinged with a masculine husk that sounded terribly familiar. But why couldn’t she...

It was a teasing featherlight touch, the memory of lips against her temple - warm breath stirring the tendrils of gold that curled against tanned skin. The only thing that seemed to keep her held in the realm of the living was the memory of aureate hands moving slow. Grabbing a glass, scritching at the back of his neck with coy endearment; masculine hands, hands she missed.

But it fell away from the Negotiator as body started to stir itself into wakefulness and like a familiar friend, remembered but not missed, the pain crept into the spots that had been tediously plucked at to extract information from Kirabel’s broken lips - dagger tickled sides, toes that had lost all sense of feeling from distorted angles, nails that would very...

A finger tapped against the polished wood of her desk, a raucous gesture of idle annoyance as mind continued to tick off completed tasks with each rap of manicured digit.

“ Have you come to a decision, Captain? Your contract is coming up for renewal and intelligence is getting antsy. Will you continue in your work with them?”

Mind had warped over the screams that rang through the decrepit recesses of her mind, specks of dried blood picked from beneath her fingernails a fine powder on top of the pristine white vellum that awaited her signature. But all Kirabel the Vicious could do was think about the way gilded hands moved down the feline arch of her spin in a roiling through of pleasure, a kiss placed in gentle accompaniment...

The moon peeked over the soft haven of cloud cover, dusted stars twinkling out their laughter as the Captain made her way home in a daze. Fingers moved in a ragged comb through the silvery strands that were tugged into an annoyed ponytail as legs eked out a rhythm to the drunken gait. Unhooking the button of vest, an enameled flask was retrieved like a lifeline and the contents swigged as a chill started to set itself in her bones.

Not far to go, now on the familiar road leading back to the modest family estate, the familiarity did little to settle the aggravating discomfort of the evening and inwardly those bits of her were picked apart much like how her own forward suggestions no doubt came across. Mulling over the newly met...

“ Welcome home, Lady Val’thras.”

It was most difficult to summon a smile, keeping on a face of utter collected control when inside the war still thrummed violent; dripping decadence in bloody diplomatic splatters. Chin lifted a fraction, revealing the sturdy set of eyes that were far too seeing in their piercing quality to be called outwardly kind. But that forced smile, collected pieces of mustered kindness threaded itself at the corners to lessen the frosted chip of assessing gaze as it swept over the entrance way of the family estate - a home she never thought to see again. Chin lifted, not allowing that proud head to dip in a show of worrisome instability.

“ Thank you, Lyriam.  It is certainly good to be home and I...

“Get this to the keep right away, Ainsley,” the lieutenant said as he handed a brown folder to the young paladin.

“Right away, sir,” Marachius answered. Tucking the folder under one arm, he straightened up and saluted his superior before turning and heading through the door. With a quick step, Marachius moved through the Cathedral and made his way through the front doors. Standing at the top of the stairs, he took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the sunshine. 

“Nice day,” he said to himself with a smile as he descended the steps and walked past the fountain. A few moments later, Marachius found himself walking along the canal outside the Cathedral Square. As he walked, something caught his attention.

Sitting on the...

https://cobatsart.tumblr.com/ (sometimes NSFW)

http://claw-doodles.tumblr.com/

Dear Diary,

When I was a young teenager my mother threw a tea party for, 'high class young ladies of Silvermoon.' Several girls came with their mothers. The adults sat at one table and we children at the second table. The kids were terribly interested in what the adults were doing: Were they thinking of new and creative ways to punish them when they were bad? Were they praising them? Not discussing them at all?

The women served us small cupcakes and glasses of hot or cold teas. We tried to be polite and not eat or drink messily. One of the girls complained that no one was talking we were just consuming snacks and teas. We responded by... continuing to silently consume snacks and teas.

It wasn't that I didn't wanna chat. It was...

Everything about the central pool around which the enclave of Thalassa was created was made to provoke the feeling of comfort and security. The underwater island existed at the behest of the goddess, and the pool seemed to be the fulcrum: power rose from the surface, holding the ocean's pressure away and creating a pocket of space for the acolytes. Pillars encircled the area, chairs and couches placed so that the worshippers of Thalassa could sit and reflect upon its placid waters, crystal clear and seemingly having no end to its depths. Tonight however, attendants waited patiently at the sole set of stairs into the pool, not daring to touch the water themselves. The faint aquamarine light that filtered from the water above was all...

The Dwarven nesting doll smiled cheerfully up at him with what he imagined was barely held laughter. He hadn’t met many dwarves in his life, but he hoped he might meet someone with her outlook soon. Renrael felt his own grin ruck to the side in answer to her.

He always spoke Common to her. “How long you gonna stay on my nightstand this time, yeah? Very cosmopolitan, aren’t ya? Whisking away around the world. Probably been through more portals than I ever will. Probably seen a LOT; I know who’s pocket you usually sit in. Your courtier will be back for you, soon, I’m sure.” He winked and his fingernail tapped against her in a playful cuff; he was careful not to tip her over. He stood up and his eyes drifted over the other...

The two men stood in the shadow of the trees, not too far back from the road. They gazed between the houses at the main road of Darkshire, not daring to speak much for fear of being noticed. Dressed in dark leathers, they watched. Then, the door of one of the buildings opened and a young boy stepped outside.

“There he is,” said one of the two men, tapping the other on the arm with the back of his hand. The second man nodded. The two of them tensed as they watched the boy adjust his tunic and look back towards the center of town. Then they both jumped slightly when a voice spoke to them.

“Wacha doin’?”

The two men turned and looked around the shadows, finally settling their sights on an imp standing behind them.

“What the...