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Tales from a Scoundrel

@gaveshillvack / gaveshillvack.tumblr.com

A scrapbook of broken promises, and lonely hearts.
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❥❥❥❥

@northrendremembers Lemme tell you guys about this fuckin’ cutie pie. His characters are all extremely well written, for real. His writing is realistic, and it makes you feel feelings and shit! He’s also super nice, his meme game is strong and you couldn’t ask for a better friend.@kat-hawke This gal is super nice to everyone from everything I’ve seen. I adore her character and her story, always a good read. She seems to stay out of drama which I 10/10 respect. She also has a harem of women after her, she’s obviously doing something right. :P

@gildedhilt aka Danny Devito, aka corgi in disguise. While we only recently started bugging one another again, I always had a respect for you. You stayed true to your character no matter what. You also seem to be able to put a big smile on lots of peoples faces, aka you’re great. :D 

@gaveshillvack I don’t think you’re active on tumblr much so you might not even see this. But you’re the real MVP. You’re my best friend. We’ve cried on each others arms, and we’re always there for one another. I don’t think I’ve found anyone else in this game that is as genuine as you are. You will always be my best friend, and I don’t think anyone can top everything you’ve done for me. It takes a real friend to be able to sit you down and say the hard shit right to your face, even the stuff you don’t want to hear. But you’re always willing to do it. You’re always willing to be there. So, yeah you’re pretty fucking rad and you’re stuck with me forever now, muahaha.

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To meet someone who is both a kindred spirit and polar opposite is to meet growth. Challenging. The tangible, physical face of a gateway, a future. They don’t come from two too different backgrounds, nor are they living much separate lives. But trust me when I say that they have their differences. 

He’s an optimist, a believer in the light, confident, he knows where he wants to be.

She is a lost, wandering soul skimming her bare feet upon a beach, littered with glass, shells, and treasures hidden under the dry sand called the brothel.

And sometimes it squeaks.

While they share wit, passion, and tragedy, their differing view points on the world create interesting debate between the intellectuals. 

So, why was she starting to feel sick around him? Her head was starting to hurt. Like, when he’d say something along the lines of: 

“Wanna know something a wise man once told me? That feeling of fear as you head into the darkness, that’s your soul telling you you’re heading the right way ‘cause nothing good in life is taken when you’re not afraid.”

Or

“Don’t ever give your soul to something it doesn’t burn for, Ophelia, never.”

Or

“Y'know, you look cute whenever you get excited, this almost child-like awe to it. It’s adorable. Endearing, actually.”

Even

“You keep this questioning up, Ophelia, I might think that you like me.” To which she’d reply with a smile and roll of baby blue eyes, “I wouldn’t be so stupid.

She wouldn’t be.

Right?

Because the way he made her stomach twist, the anxiety he gave her, the pressure that entered her skull when he was around - it was a repulsion, correct? Ophelia wouldn’t be that stupid.

He’d said it a million times, he fucks pretty girls. 

She’s a pretty girl.

Yes.

And it’s not hard for her to know that, because she’s a whore – because she’s a  smart whore, who doesn’t let her feelings get tangled in a man who can’t give them back. Because she’s not that stupid. Because she wouldn’t be the one to make something what it wasn’t. And if this was the only way he could be in her life, well that’s just fine. He’d still be there.

And no, Ophelia wasn’t pretending. Gods, she wished she was. She, a woman who no longer feared death, was genuinely afraid for her life. He could destroy it if she let him. Oh, fuck was she scared.

He pissed her off. 

But if she ever was, for a moment, feeling just a little air headed —just so that she could go ahead and get this heartbreak out of the way, of course, 

of course

 – well, 

Then maybe he’d be her best mistake and most well kept secret. Her sisters couldn’t know. No one could know. Because he was obviously trouble and Ophelia was always attracted to the bad ones but at this point she’d been on top of him so much he was starting to look like the floor. A very sexy floor. His scent had started sticking to her hair and when the wind blew right she could smell it and swear he was near. And he’s just a man with an idea of what Ophelia likes, using his charm for evil because they always say that when power gets into the wrong hands…And his are so, so wrong.

 But Ophelia didn’t have to worry about any of that.

Because she just wasn’t 

that 

stupid.

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All About Gaves

the basics ––– –

NAME: Gaves Hillvack the Second

AGE: 30

BIRTHDAY: December 12th

RACE: Human

GENDER: Male

SEXUALITY: Straight

MARITAL STATUS: N/A

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

Face Claim: N/A

physical appearance ––– –

HAIR: Brown

EYE: Sea Green

HEIGHT: 6′4

BUILD: Tall, lanky.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: His award winning smile.

COMMON ACCESSORIES: Red Bandanna that can always be seen upon his forehead.

personal ––– –

PROFESSION: Bard.

HOBBIES: Fishing, swimming and taking care of his cat.

LANGUAGES: Common.

RESIDENCE: Stormwind

BIRTHPLACE: Southshore

RELIGION: The Light

PATRON DEITY: N/A

FEARS: Spiders, being alone, and being ignored.

relationships ––– -

SPOUSE: None

CHILDREN: None

PARENTS: Gaves and Nancy Hillvack

SIBLINGS: None

OTHER RELATIVES: N/A

ACQUAINTANCES/FRIENDS: @madame-miersae

traits ––– -

extroverted / introverted / in between.

disorganized / organized / in between.

close minded / open-minded / in between.

calm / anxious / in between.

disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

cautious / reckless / in between.

patient / impatient / in between.

outspoken / reserved / in between.

leader / follower / in between.

empathetic / unemphatic / in between.

optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

traditional / modern / in between.

hard-working / lazy / in between.

cultured / uncultured / in between.

loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between.

faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between.

additional information ––– –

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Looking for more RP and contacts!

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Mari’s Song

Honeyed lips with golden orbs, what else am I looking for?                                   I knew what laid behind those eyes, believe me I knew the score.                   You couldn’t convince me otherwise, trust me, you ain’t a bore.                        So, dash away those doubts, ‘cause loving you isn’t a chore. 

You make it so easy for me to say how I feel.                                                  Only good things you’ve done for me, I’m filled with zeal.                                    Voice so sweet and sultry, it’s no wonder you can make a man kneel.                 A body for die for you could choose any man you wanted to steal.

Honeyed lips with golden orbs, what else am I looking for?                                   I knew what laid behind those eyes, believe me I knew the score.                   You couldn’t convince me otherwise, trust me, you ain’t a bore.                           So, dash away those doubts, ‘cause loving you ain’t a chore.

As I sing these words I still don’t see what’s wrong.                                           You’re the best, to me, and your resolve is always strong.                                      Writing down the words so you’ll remember your song.                                    Thinking of you helps the nights not seem so long.

Honeyed lips with golden orbs, what else am I looking for?                                   I knew what laid behind those eyes, believe me I knew the score.                          You couldn’t convince me otherwise, trust me, you ain’t a bore.                            So, dash away those doubts, ‘cause loving you ain’t a chore.

 When you speak my name coated with heat.                                                        It has me shivering, too scared to miss a beat.                                               Holding me still with your golden eyes, and wrapped up in a sheet.                      I’m not a match for something so sultry, loving, and sweet.

Honeyed lips with golden orbs, what else am I looking for?                                   I knew what laid behind those eyes, believe me I knew the score.                          You couldn’t convince me otherwise, trust me, you ain’t a bore.                        So, dash away those doubts, ‘cause loving you ain’t a chore.                      

 Always a sorrow to wake up to see that you go.                                                     Leave me on the bed, tired, but happy it went so.                                                  But you’re gone when I need you the most, though.                                               But I’ll wait until you come back, even if you are a little slow.

Honeyed lips with golden orbs, what else am I looking for?                                   I knew what laid behind those eyes, believe me I knew the score.                          You couldn’t convince me otherwise, trust me, you ain’t a bore.                            So, dash away those doubts, ‘cause loving you ain’t a chore.

I’ve meant every syllable I’ve said, there shouldn’t be any doubt.                           Now the world will know that my words were not a tout.                                       I’ll climb atop a building if I must, getting up only to scream and shout.

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A Bandit

It wasn't how Gaves thought he would be spending his evening: Lying on his back, bleeding from a stab wound, and losing sensation in his legs. Truthfully, it was a nightmare, and he could have avoided if he had just listened. Of course his curious nature got the better of him, and he stayed put. Perhaps -now- he would remember to run, when told to run.

He had just reunited with the always alluring Mariaute, the shapely woman no longer wearing her dark leathers, but instead dressing in something softer. A top, and dress leaving her midsection exposed. It didn't help that she wore a thin veil over her face, revealing only those gorgeous, golden eyes flecked with silver. A weaker man would have knelt. Standing on the edge of the path that stood out in front of the Slaughtered Lamb, Gaves and Mariaute talked, enjoying each other's quips, and satirical lines. Despite how pleasant the words exchanged were, Gaves couldn't help but feel uneasy at a strange sight. A man, tall as a building, and encased in armor blessed by the light was flanked by what appeared to be a mugger, and woman wearing a robe. They looked strange, standing out in the open, lined up like they were preparing to do -something-. A strange voice invaded Gaves' mind, interrupting the impure thoughts of Mariaute he held. "Run. Your life is in danger." His mouth went dry, ceasing anything that wasn't pertaining to his survival. Inhaling sharply he looks around, trying to find 'the voice'. All he found was Mariaute's golden orbs. "What's wrong?" She asked.

The mugger left the trio, making the long, obvious way up the ramp towards Gaves. It wasn't hard to miss him, dressed as he was. Gaves wondered who told him it was a good idea to dress up like -that- in the first place. As he approached, Gaves whispered to Mariaute, ignoring what she just said to him. "Listen to me right now, please. A voice, I don't who's, just told me to run. Told me I'm in Danger." His ocean colored eyes stared a the approaching masked man, suspecting he had something to do with. Mariaute's honeyed words cooed to him in a soft hush. "Put your arm around my waist." And so Gaves did. Promptly the shady individual walked directly behind Gaves, sniffling; In addition to looking nefarious, he also had a cold. "Sirrah? Spare change for a poor beggar, master?" Who asked for gold dressed like that, Gaves thought. Instinct told him to bolt, but his curiosity got the better of him. Besides, he had Mariaute, and Mariaute knew how to handle herself quite well, or so she would tell you with a smirk. Gaves turned his head towards the man, but didn't betray his position with Mariaute. "What's this? Oh light, another mask." Gaves teases good naturedly, checking out yet -another- mask in his life today.  He gave an honest answer. "Sorry sir, I'm uh. A bit busy whispering in the lovely lady's ear." It was partially true, but the outlaw didn't care.

He struck much faster than Gaves would have thought, especially someone with a cold. The cold steel stuck him in the back, center to his spine from his left shoulder. Had Gaves not been watching the outlaws motion towards him it would have been much worse. Pain, fear, and adrenaline compelled Gaves forward, an arm loosening up from Mariaute's body as he fell forward from the ledge, blood leaking from him as he landed with a thud on the cool grass. It wasn't the first time he was stabbed, but it still hurt. Clutching at his back, he writhed around on the earth, squirming. Arms bent at an awkward angle, trying to put pressure on the wound. All the while Mariaute attacked, striking at the attacker. Despite her harmless appearance she was far from it, and put the sniffling bandit on the defensive. With a brief clash, Gaves heard something metal drop, and the bandit cursed. Retreating, he gave his farewell. "Lord Holt... sends his regards." And with that, he grabbed a pouch attached to his waist, removed it,  and slammed it on the ground.  It burst into a cloud of billowing smoke, and behind that he escaped, climbing the white lattice of a nearby building to dash across the rooftops.

Lord Holt, Gaves thought... which one? It didn't help that the family was spread out amongst many members, and giving the title of lord was like telling him he only had to choose one from hundreds instead of thousands. Which lord? Gaves grimaced, trying to flip over to his side. Just then a familiar voice invaded his distressed thoughts, speaking. "He is employed by those who think you are some sort of serial killer." A serial killer? Of all the things to accuse Gaves of, Gaves, the man who would couldn't stand the sight of blood, or harming someone, him. -He- was a serial killer. The man who had been subject to many beating, and refused to do anything back. -He- was a serial killer. Gaves was insulted, he roared at the alien voice. "The fawk kinda' question is that?" His mind bellowed, showing off that distinct Southshore accent. "How can I prove to ya' I don't look like a serial killer?" Rational thought was absent in the moment. It didn't help that now, at the base of his spine, he felt an immense stabbing pain. Was it poison? It had to be; the bandit was sent to make him a cripple, or was that just a bonus because the attempted killer really loved his job? Gaves didn't know. The only thing he did know was that he felt like he was going to die.

The voice spoke to him again. "This is your mind. And that definitely proved it. Sorry, I had to make sure I wasn't doing the wrong thing here." Gaves groaned. As if any part of finding someone to do this kind of thing was for the 'greater good.' "Whoever told you that is lying, I ain't a killer." A Draenei approached from around the corner, she was holding nothing more than a lute, and dressed like a commoner. Mariaute, on the other hand, leapt down with annoyance. Somehow the man had gotten away, and she accused herself of being useless during the situation.   She landed with the grace of cat, always on her feet. Her golden eyes peered over Gaves, annoyed. Whether it was at him, or her guilt Gaves could see it written plainly on her face. The Draenei came closer, inspecting the damage. He was too busy clutching at his back to explain rationally what was wrong with him, so Gaves only managed to grunt, and spit out four letter words for his description of the wound. The Draenei seemed to understood, and held up her lute, as if she was about to play it. Then, a  moment later she did: Beautiful hymns were plucked in a harmonious manner. The light around her seemed to intensify, giving her a halo of yellow light. She spoke a chorus, lyrics Gaves didn't quite understand, and willed her light to Gaves. In a flash the warm rays from the heavens soaked Gaves, wrapping around him like a blanket. Quickly the throbbing sensation from his back started to cease, as well as the tingling sensation at the base of his spine. Like easing into a hot bath, Gaves relaxed against the Light's will, content as it sealed up his wounds, stopped the bleeding, and purged the toxins from his blood.

Gaves blinked, staring up at the now purple sky; the sun was setting. His head rolled over to the Draenei, smiling. "Thank you." Gaves said cheerfully. His upper half pushed itself up, but his legs refused to act. Panicking, he looked towards the Draenei. The woman shook her head, coming to an end with her music that she played. The light around her ceased to pour into Gaves, and then started to fade away. "It may have saved your life, but there is only so much the light can do. Rest is what you need." Gaves immediate thought was the Cathedral. "I know where I have to go. Mariaute, please help me." Mariaute inched closed, still upset with the course of events. "Take me to the Cathedral." Mariaute's face darkened, but she understood. The much smaller woman leaned down at the waist, and hoisted Gaves up, slinging his arm over her shoulder. How she managed to support his weight, he didn't know. "Cathedral, then I'm gone." Gaves frowned, then nodded. He turned to the Draenei, and smiled. "Thank you, thank you so muc-" His voice, and the rest of him, along with Mariaute, slipped into darkness, evaporating from the current realm of existence. When Gaves blinked again he could still the Draenei, but she was different. In fact the entire city was different. The sky was pitch black, and the sun was a single, white orb beaming light that illuminated everything. People, buildings, and even the grass were all covered by a thick layer of fog, almost like livings wisps. "Where are we?" Gaves asked to Mariaute whom was already dragging him away from the scene of the crime. "Don't ask too much." Was his answer. Gaves guessed it was the realm of shadows, or whatever its 'official' name was. The same place rogues slipped in, and out of to either hide, or attack an unsuspecting soul. What was most strange is how fast they moved, or at least how fast Mariaute moved with Gaves. Like gliding over glass they raced past people unsuspecting to their presence. In a matter of minutes they appeared in front of the Cathedral steps. Gaves felt a tinge of guilt, however he didn't have a chance to learn the Draenei's name.

Mariaute looked taxed. Perhaps it was because she was so close to the Cathedral, or maybe because she had just literally dragged Gaves across Stormwind. Still, she never dropped him from her grip. At least now Gaves could feel his toes, faintly. With effort she helped him along, occasionally Gaves would push off the ground with every seventh step Mariaute took, dragging his other foot along. Finally, they climbed the many steps, and slinked inside the holy place. Mariaute must have been continually punched in the gut, because she looked like a weight had been strapped to her neck. Moving to a bench, Gaves stumbles, and falls, missing it. His hands fly out in front of him, and slap against the stone edge, making a loud noise. It interrupted with the otherwise peaceful environment. It was loud enough to distract a devout follower. A man, if one could call it a man, stood up from his kneeling position from the center of the building. Gaves could hear him before he saw him. A hulking -thing- shook the earth as he made his way over to Gaves and Mariaute; Mariaute was helping Gaves onto the bench. "Is everything alright here?" The beast of a man asked. His armor was unnecessary, and looked cumbersome. Pale white in color, and his visor held two burning yellow orbs; it was either his real eyes, or some kind of magic. "Are we fine here?" Gaves said sarcastically, gesturing to himself, and Mariaute. "Just stabbed in the back, and accused as a serial killer. Aside from that?" Gaves pursed his lips, and shrugged his shoulders. "Just fine." The bard's eyes hovered on the large man. In truth he knew who he was, Gaves was just playing dumb. Like all Paladins he was a devout follower, and took the teachings of the church very seriously. It didn't help that Mariaute was looking annoyed to be in the establishment, giving her roguish look a motive to be questioned. "Do you need anything?" The paladin asked. Gaves remembered clearly where the man had been through all this. He was standing next to the man who stabbed him, but why? He, from what Gaves saw, and heard, was a paragon to the light, why had he been with the man before the attack? Gaves told the truth. "Well, I think I've been poisoned to tell ya' the truth. See my legs?" Gaves wiggled his foot slowly. "Think I've been hit with something paralytic.

The paladin grunted, and then nodded. "I've got some anti-venom in my first aid pouch, but that's about it. It's generic, but it should hold you over." Large, metal digits retrieve a vial of red 'goo'. He tosses into Gaves lap. Snagging it, Gaves holds up the liquid to the light, inspecting it. He had a good feeling it would taste awful. "I was lucky someone close to the light was near, else I'd still be laying on the floor." The hulk nodded, and then turned his attention on Mariaute who was steadfast on showing her contempt for the building they were standing in. "If you'll excuse me I'd like to speak to your woman." Gaves smirked, but before he could explain the situation Mariaute barked. "I'm not going anywhere with you." The man, clearly insulted by her lack of respect turned his massive frame on her. "I'd watch your tone if I were you." the deep voice warrior bellowed. Mariaute didn't seem to care. "You can try." Smiling sheepishly Gaves decided to step in, lying. "She's stubborn, ain't she?" His dirty face canted to the side as he talked to the other man. "Look, I promise ya' we'll both be on our merry way once I can manage to walk upright again, ok? I doubt it'd look good for any of us if you had to use those massive arms of yours." Flattery always worked, even for the pious. He nodded with a grunt. Reaching into a separate pouch again he retrieves a golden coin with the initials L.S. written on the face of it. "Should you ever need my help, find me. The name is Leo Swordhand." Again, he flicked the coin towards Gaves. Smiling in thanks, Gaves nodded. "Thank you, sir." Huffing, Leo gave one final hard stare at Mariaute, then turned on his metal heel, and walked back to where he was praying. The bard spoke up once the metal man was out of earshot. "Ain't he great?" Gaves teased.

Sitting next to him on the bench, Mariaute looked like she was in pain, moreso then him. "Crazy day, huh?" Gaves made it sound like this happened all the time. Mariaute rolled her eyes. "Do you need anything else." She sounded tired, liked she was ready to leave. Gaves couldn't blame her, she had been doing -a lot- for him. Fighting off his attacker, pulling him to the Cathedral, and even standing in the very building that was ebbing her energy away. He couldn't blame her if she wanted to go. "You can, if you want. Truthfully I'm a little nervous if someone else will come up to finish the job, so...." Gaves smirked, looking full of himself. "If you could find it in your heart to get me to an Inn for the night, just so they don't follow me home. I'd love ya' forever." Mariaute gave him a cold face to peer back for several moments until she finally nodded. "Very well. We'll move when you're ready." Gaves nodded. "Thank you." The bard's head leaned towards Mariaute, like he was trying to rest his head on her shoulder. in a low tone he whispers to her. "I wondered if he would be here." Mariaute whispered back. "Who?" Gaves gestured with his eyes towards the spot Leo had come from. "Leo. Same damn man was JUST there moments before my attack, was standing with the guy who stabbed me." Gaves leaned more against her, cozying up on the stranger in the middle of a place of worship. "Seen him talking to the Holts on occasion, I think he's friends with 'em. I think they did-" Gaves was silenced with Mariaute small index finger to his lips. "Darling," she cooed. "Don't tell me anything else, not that I don't care, but you could be putting us both at risk if you tell me everything you know. If they come to me, and question me, I might tell them something that could hurt you." Gaves was stunned. She was concerned his own wellbeing. A woman he had just met the day before actually cared to make sure he would be alright.

"Can you take me to an Inn?" Gaves asked, not admitting how touched he was by the gesture of her refusal to learn more. Mariaute slowly nodded her head with a smile. "Sure, let's get you up on your feet." Gaves chose the Gilded Rose because of his history with the establishment. For years he rented out a room in the noisy Inn, often falling asleep with a pillow over his head because of the thin walls. The trip there was without event. If they were followed the person doing it was good, very good. Fighting past the crowds of anguished citizens who had just lost their life savings in the Auction House, Gaves and Mariaute push their way to the doors of the Inn. "Alice!" Gaves called out, hobbling over to the worn woman who wore a simple blue skirt, and white top. "Tell me, you miss your favorite patron?" The woman was overwhelmed with dumb questions; nameless adventurers piling up around her, asking where certain regions where, where was the nearest tavern, where was the bathroom. Worn green eyes peer over to Gaves in acknowledgement. Mariaute helps him closer. "I'll take my old room, ok?" Alice opened her mouth in protest, but was drowned out in the sea of needy faces. "Thanks, Alice!" Gaves called as Mariaute helped him up the creaky stairs, leaving Alice to be swarmed by the nameless strangers. Reaching the top floor, the two of them limped down to the last door on the right. "Good memories here." Gaves mused, looking around at the familiar, thin walls. "Lots of sleepless nights here." They stop in front of the door. "This is the one." He murmurs.

Inside, Gaves thanked the light the room was empty. Too many times had he been subject to barging in unannounced to a half naked man, or woman who wasn't happy at all to see him. His legs were starting to move again, thankfully. Like an old man with a bum knee, Gaves made his way to the night table, grabbing the old, sturdy brass key. Gaves looked over his shoulder. "This damned key, I can't tell you how many times I've los-" Mariaute was gone. Gone without even offering a goodbye. Smiling a thin, flat line, Gaves sighed, and made his way over to the door. "'Least you could do is say bye." Gaves huffed, closing the door, and locking it shut. Back to the bed he went, throwing his half mobile body on the weak cushion with a tired flop. He closed his eyes, and in a matter of moments he fell asleep, exhausted from the day.

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A Routine

"Heads up!" was the last thing Gaves heard as the wooden tip of a practice sword smacked him across the cheek. The sensation was awful, like being burnt by a rough surface. Yelping in pain, Gaves nearly dropped his own wooden sword while stumbling back. "Gotta' keep your eyes up all the time, ok?" Gaves shook his head. He had been staring at a flower, it was dying, and it was much more interesting than this bi-weekly sparring session his father had him doing. Rubbing his cheek, Gaves groaned, upset. "Why do I have to do this?" He asked, concern clearly in his words. Like a bear, his father growled back. "Because Hillvacks fight, Gaves, that's what -we- do. My father fought, and his father before him, and his father, and his father, and his father. All the way back to the great days of the Kingdom of Arathor."  The then boy, Gaves, sighed. "But we're blacksmiths, and there ain't no one to fight." His father spat back. "-Yet-." Stubborn, large, and always scowling; Gaves' father looked like a bear that had been forced to play nice with the bunnies and deer of the world.

This was Gaves' life on Tuesdays and Saturdays... always the same routine. Wake up, make your bed, wash up, brush your teeth, new clothes on, eat breakfast, go to the forge and sweat for hours, close up shop, go home, grab practice sword, and get beaten -every time- by dad. It was simple routine, and Gaves hated it. Just once, one day, he always said. One day he would like if it wasn't about which cut to throw when you're in a high guard, or the pro's and con's of parrying with the edge of your blade rather than the flat. But no. Like stink on a dead fish, father's training was certain.

Another cut was thrown at Gaves' head, this time he blocked it. It was almost muscle memory now, and Gaves hated it. He hated that -this-, this 'art' his father so fondly called it was beginning to become second nature to him. "Good." His father grunted. "But you didn't move your feet." The tip of his sword poked Gaves toes, making the boy hop back in pain. "Gotta' keep moving in a fight." Gaves spoke up. "But I don't wanna' fight, I don't get into fights. People like me, dad, they really do. And they just wanna' talk, nobody wants to start sparring, I mean it." His father didn't retort verbally, rather he pressed the attack. Feinting with a thrust, the bear followed up with a false edge cut that snapped against Gaves' shoulder. It was swift, and unforgiving; the force made Gaves drop his sword. Well, at the least the session was over, it always ended with Gaves being beat bad enough to the point where he couldn't defend himself. His father reeled back for another hit, a beast ready to pounce... but he halted. His son, again,  had been defeated. Sighing, he spat off to the side, and nodded. "Alright, pick up your sword, and tell me what you've learned." Gaves groaned, nursing his blooming red shoulder. He gingerly bent at the knees, picking up his sword. "I've learned that you have to keep moving. That Hillvacks fight-" His father cut him off with a bark. "You already knew that, smart ass. Try again." Gaves huffed, scowling. "That you need to rotate your hips when throwing a cut from high guard, because you get more power of it..." Gaves' father rolled a finger over, nodding for him to explain further. "Annnnnd... ummm... umm. Oh, yeah. Yeah, and it's so you can transition into another thrust, or cut."

Gaves hated the fact that he had been paying close enough attention to learn this, this barbaric dance of savages. Southshore wasn't renowned for their valiant fighters, it was a damned fishing village for crying out loud, Gaves thought to himself. What his father was training him for he had no idea. "Good." The bear grunted with a nod. "Wash yourself off, and head back home for supper. Mom's making breaded bullheads, again." He shook his head before turning around, and walking away with a huff. He mumbles under his breath. "Better be making breaded bullheads." Gaves waited till his father had left before racing away in the opposite direction; the pond was nearly in sight. Without bothering to remove his clothes, he leapt into the dark blue water, submerging himself while his wooden sword floated to the top. He held his breath for several moments, merely waiting for his lungs to start burning for air. It was -his- time, a moment where all he had was himself, and his thoughts. Father had gotten more aggressive as of late with his sessions, not stopping until he had bruised at least TWO spots on his body. The positive, if anything, was that Gaves wasn't bothered by anyone else, who would pick on a boy who was smacked by his father? He opened his eyes, studying the usually murky water with intent. A few fish skittered by, but they had to get close enough for that. Gaves couldn't see more than his arm's length, if that. Gaves liked it that way, he felt safe. It was his isolated spot in the pond, no one but -him- could see himself. Finally, his lungs tapped out, signaling him to rise. Reluctantly he urged his core upwards, arms flapping underwater until his head breached with a massive Inhale. Air rushed back in, giving him life. He was at three and half minutes now. If he kept it up by the end of the month he would be holding his breath for four minutes easily. The sun was starting to set as Gaves waded out of the water, making sure to grab his 'sword' before sitting at the bank.

Why did his father want him to fight? There was no purpose, no will. Dad was a blacksmith, and just like any child, Gaves was going to follow in his parent's footsteps. It would be another thing if he was taught different techniques, or that folding metal over was used to force out impurities with the iron, but alas... For hours he would hold a stick until he couldn't.  Anger bit him at the side, compelling him at times to lash out at his father during the sessions. Not once, with all his fury did he manage to score a hit. The best he had manage was make his father stumble back, but it was only met with a counter-attack that ended up with Gaves on his ass. His father congratulated him, explaining how, in great detail, what he had done right, but what he had done wrong, and what led to him laying on the ground.  A jumbled mess of thoughts the boy was now. Huffing,  he picked himself up, along with the sword, and waddled back to his house in soggy clothing. The tip of the wooden sword scraped along the grass as he ventured home. One thing was for sure, Gaves told himself. He would never be like his father, who loved war, and the thrill of battle. Never. The forge  maybe, but only until he could leave, leave and never come back to that black cauldron of a tomb, and the hulk that resided over it.

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A Countess

"It's over." Spoke a man that looked like he could strangle his dinner with nothing but his bare hands. Gaves looked up at the voice with swollen, red eyes. "Fawk you."  The bard hissed in a hoarse voice. The gruffer voice shot back a sinister laugh as his wide, intimidating frame layed against a wall that was shrouded with shadows. "I told you." It teased, a single, fat finger poking out just enough for the fireplace's light to illuminate the outline. "I told you it was a waste, that you're not supposed to love anyone. A mistake is what you are." Gaves grabbed an empty bottle of Dalarn red by the neck that was laying down on the stained covers of the couch, and chucked it the large man. "Fawk you, dad!" The glass passed through the thick chested man like a mirage, splintering into glass dust. The last remnants of the dark red liquid trickled down the wall, staining it forever. Wine was a pain to remove. "Why so mad, Gaves? You got what you wanted?" His father was leaning forward from behind the couch, a few inches away from Gaves' ear. "Free to fuck just like you wanted, right?" Gaves answered with a right fist that slashed through nothing. "Get out!" He barked before collapsing back into his 'spot' on the couch. It sat between the two cushions, perfectly aligned with the center of the fireplace.

She left with a letter. There wasn't a kiss, hug goodbye, or even a night to hold her one more time. It would have felt better if she told him that she hated him, that she was tired of his antics. That Gaves could understand. But it wasn't hate, or malice that was woven into those beautiful hand written letters, no. It was regret, regret of what she had done to him. Gaves came home earlier that day, exhausted as always. Yet again, another house had chose to not pledge their support to the R.R.F. Instead choosing to... 'better manage their funds elsewhere'. As if. Gaves thought helping the poor was heroic, wasn't it? Closing the door behind him he strolls over to the kitchen table which had been uncharacteristically straightened up. Why, Gaves thought. Inspecting the 'damage' he discovers a single piece of paper folded in half, the outside of it reading 'For Gaves'. Naturally Gaves took it as a love letter; maybe Miersae had finally learned how to write a poem, he thought. Picking up the parchment, he unfolds it, and begins to read. Annoyance overtook him first; this was not how you made a poem... but then it struck Gaves that this wasn't a poem. A blistering cold sensation stuck him in the gut, like a knife, chilling his very core as his breathing stopped. His heart banged against his chest like a war drum, it was almost louder than the crackling fire. Panicked sea-green eyes traced over the outlines of letters, racing to the end, hoping, praying that this was a joke. Some sick twisted joke. 'I'll always love you.' it ended with, but not without a signature from Miersae herself. Gaves' hands shook violently as his mind raced; at this point he had forgotten to inhale. The letter fell loose from his grasp, and fell silently to the floor.

His first reaction was to race to the bedroom, tearing open the door to search for her belongings. First, the dresser. Gripping the handles, he pulled each drawer out completely searching about for something of hers, anything. Nothing. Again, he tried, repeating the process with each level. His fears were confirmed as piles of wood layed atop each other with assorted articles of clothing tossed about. It was all his, and none of hers. Wide eyes targeted the wardrobe. Something in there, there had to be, he said to himself. Leaping over the mess, he pulled a door off its hinge, throwing it behind him towards the pile of wood. Ravaging hands pulled his own clothing off, ripping most of them at the collar; he couldn't wait to take them off the hangar. Down the line he went, checking, inspecting... all his. A hand slams the wardrobe shut, shattering the mirror inlayed on the outside of it. Two heels whirl around, and Gaves launches himself over the bed, and towards her night table. Again, he pulls the drawer out of the socket, checking it... clean. Gaves cried out in agony, throwing the drawer across the room. For several minutes Gaves layed on top of his bed, rubbing his eyes raw as he cried like a child.

After an hour of running his voice sore Gaves finally picked himself up, ruined. That was it, he thought. The woman he loved. The woman he gave up everything for. The woman he wanted to die with. The woman he couldn't see tomorrow without... gone. A weary eye looked around for a sharp object, Gaves considering just plunging a dagger into his heart; what was the point of going on? This woman was his life, the sole reason of his existence. The woman he stopped running around with, that he pledged himself, and all of himself towards. Mechanical body movement kept Gaves going, forcing him to go the winerack, and pull off the last remaining bottle of Dalaran Red. Gaves stared at the dark red liquid; Miersae loved Dalaran red. It wasn't hers, but it was the closest thing to, Gaves said. Moving to the crackling couch, Gaves sat down; but there was something particular about his spot. He didn't choose a side, and rather sat down the middle, lining up between the two cushions. He uncorked  the welcoming aroma which wafted up towards the ceiling. Gaves looked upwards, staring at the orange flame. The sun was setting now, and soon he would be surrounded by darkness, all for except this fireplace, which never stopped running. It was the only real constant thing in his life, now. That fireplace. Always on when he needed it. It would never go out, not until Gaves wanted it to. With a sniffle, he lifted the wine bottle up to his lips, preparing him to weep for the next several hours.

The first of the wine's trickles reached the wooden floorboards, starting to pool at the base of the wall. Gaves blinked, realizing what he had done. Miersae would have scolded hi- Miersae... Gaves remembered now. In a brief moment he had forgotten how the pang of loss felt. It came rushing back now, all too keen on reminding him that he was, infarct, destined to cry alone. Standing up, Gaves moved himself back towards the ruined bedroom with slow steps. "D'aww... poor Gavey has his heart broken?" Mocked his father who seemed to just a foot behind him. "Did you really think a -COUNTESS- would stay with you?" Dark laughter filled the room as Gaves passed through the unhinged bedroom door, his head hanging low. "Get real, Hillvack. Of course she woulda' ran away with a Lord, OF COURSE!" His father sounded so sure of himself, like Gaves had just stuck his hand in a fire. "What could you have done, hmm? Love? Psssh, as if... Nobody wants your love." The voice grew cold as Gaves' father reappeared in front of the ruined wardrobe. "Took everything too, so you don't gotta' feel bad- The bitch is doing you a favor." Gaves walked by the vision, and stepped over the pile of wooden drawers. He was moving towards his own night table. "Took her away like a prize, too, mmm... TOOK HER AWAY FROM A CHUMP!" The image screamed in front of Gaves, leaning into the bellow, but Gaves didn't bother with it. It was the voice that always tormented him, that hindered him, burdened his choices. The bard reached down, pulling open the nigh table.

Amongst the mess of pencils, note pads, and assorted candy layed two, small, black, felt boxes that opened at a hinge. They were lying underneath a very used pair of red trunks. Gaves picked them up, their weight surely nothing, but Gaves felt as though he was lifting the world by its very pillars. "What's this?" His father asked in curiosity." His form snapped in front of Gaves, always in front of him despite how many times Gaves whirled away. "Two boxes..." An impish smile grew on the bearded man's face. It didn't look natural, as if he was forcing his muscles to twist a way they weren't supposed to. "Was Gavey gonna' ask her to marry him? D'awwww..." Gaves narrowed his eyes, but didn't look up. There was no point. With a sniffle he turned back around, returning back to the couch in the other room. "Wasn't like she would say 'yes'. 'Oh, yes, Gaves, yes I'll marry you. I'll always loooovvvvvvvve you. I'll never leave, ever." Amused with himself, his father cackled, grabbing his stomach with mirth. "Ahahaha! LOOK ATCHA'!" He suddenly screamed, thrusting a finger into Gaves' gut. It did nothing. "YOU'RE PATHETIC! WALKING AROUND WITH RINGS YOU'LL NEVER WEAR! A WASTE!" Spittle coated the bard's face, but it wasn't real. Down on the couch again, Gaves sat the two boxes on his lap while his father continued to berate him. "Not like you could do anything, anyway. She wanted a -FAMILY-, Hillvack. Can you do that, hmm? CAN YOU GIVE HER THAT?!" Gaves already knew the answer to that, but he refused to address his haunting specter. "No, you can't. You can't, because you fucked around, Gavey. You fucked around, and now you've got NOTHING to show for it. Because you wanted to live free, and didn't bother with any hearts you may of stepped on, Gavey. Because, maybe, just maybe you may have fucked with someone who could take something from you, something you just may need. And what a shame is -that-. THE HILLVACK legacy will die with you, a fuckin' mistake."

He had drowned out his father now, he was nothing but a faint blur of an outline, and soft spoken words. Gaves' world had gone silent except for the fireplace, which was a familiar comfort. Nimble fingers pried open the boxes, revealing their treasures: The first of which was a Gold band adorned with several intricate carvings, and markings. Seated at the peak lay a  cut emerald so big it may as well been better for a jewel in a King's portrait frame. On the inside of the box it read 'Mier'sae'. The other box followed a similar outline, but this one was marked with a cut ruby just as big; upon closer inspection one could tell that the ruby was bigger by a fraction of an inch. The inside of that box read 'Gaves'. The bard removed the two rings, holding them carefully in his hand, like baby birds. He brought them close to his eye, studying them intently. He dared not slip either on his finger, lest he give himself an image that would never come true. Shedding another painful tear, Gaves then hurled the rings into the fire, which as expected, the fire swallowed up in an instant. Being magically imbued, it didn't matter what was given to the enchanted flames. Everything was consumed by the heat, and the two rings were no exception. Quickly, the metal bounding the gems begin to blaze orange, then melt. The minerals fared no better; their fate came from the intense heat forcing them to crack, then burst amongst the stone tomb as their shattered remnants melted into nothing but a white smoke that rose up the chimney.

He didn't have time to look over the gesture in earnest; as quickly as it started, it ended. Picking up the boxes, he prepared to give them to the flames as well, but halted. Something caught his eye, something he had forgotten he had done. On the underside of Miersae's box was a message: 'To the only woman who would make me kneel, and beg for her hand forever. Love, Gaves.'. More tears begin to fall freely before he tossed the box, and and its partner into the roaring flames. Again, like the rings they were turned to ash in the never ending cycle of heat. The bard clutched his face, refusing to look away from the crater of his sin, and wept. "Would you look at that..." His father spoke, louder this time. Gaves couldn't focus on blocking him out. "Was poor Gavey gonna' propose....?" It was strange to think of the vision as omnipotent, but it was, according to Gaves. It knew his fears, and doubts, failures, mistakes, and regrets. It was him. A finger tapped the matted hair that layed over his temple, thinking. Suddenly, his face that looked like it been scarred up like a slave's back lit up. "Gonna' propose on your birthday, weren't ya'?" A groaned followed, his father obviously upset. "What a sap. Y'know, you are a fucker for thinking you could just, just forget who you are, Gavey."

Darkness ate away at the bard, leaving him a hollow shell of what he was. If not for the single fire keeping his form safe from the creeping nothingness, than Gaves surely would have been suffocated by the black empty feeling in his heart. His father's stinging words poked holes in him, leaving him shell that was his usual happy self. Miersae was always there to stave off the thoughts of despair, but now she was gone. Gone, and never coming back. The demons cackled in harmony as it was only a matter of time before Gaves gave up, and snapped his fingers, shutting the fire off forever. They would overtake him in an instant, and wreak havoc until the morning's light could grant him mercy from the nearby window. Hope fleeted, and nothing else mattered. What was life if not to give it someone else? What was to live without purpose? Gaves raised a finger and thumb up, staring into the fleeting light. His father was right, he was destined for darkness. With a quick snap of his fingers Gaves commanded the fireplace to cease its life, forcing the light to recede into nothing as the surrounding darkness leapt in, and tore into his soul, tormenting him until his chest heaved with pained sobs again.

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Anonymous asked:

You're a wonderful person! Just thought you should know.

“The truth of the matter is that I already know -this-.” *Gaves said with long, drawn out sigh.* “If anything you’ve just repeated what the masses need to be told, so for -that- I thank you.”

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Anonymous asked:

:c I'm sad Gaves and Miersae aren't together... to a point. Your character is great and wonderful and showed a LOT of dedication, yet Miersae hardly rp'd in game with you. On one hand, I'm sad for the loss of the ship. In the other hand, I really hope Gaves finds someone deserving of his love. He's too awesome (in his own complicated, thoughtful, and snarky way) for anything less. I really hope the best for you.

Gaves would agree with you, but I on the other hand am still upset with the loss of my RP Partner. Miersae was great, and will be a chapter in my WoW career that I wont forget. I never held it against her, referring to her activity with me, I always thought it was more important that she be more available to her guild than she was with me. The few intimate moments we had were special, and they mean a lot to me; I wont blame her for doing what she had to for the guild’s sake. With her leaving the game all together is a heart breaker. She was always there for me OOCly, whether I needed a dude to vent to, or someone I could laugh, and be silly with. She was- Rather, she is someone I hold in high regard, and wish that she tackles her problems head first. She was special, and will be missed. Always.

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Anonymous asked:

Have you been making that bank?

You should already know the answer to that question.

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A Cage

Gaves had to admit that this cell was perhaps the nicest one he had been in. Of course, it was only competing with three others, none of them legal in the eyes of the law. Though there was something to be when being caught with a lady of a house. The ten day old hay was adorned with a scratchy, linen blanket. The floor was wooden, and the surrounding walls were barred metal with a flat stone wall at his back. To cap off the four star establishment the air was thick with mildew, Gaves was cuffed at the ankles and wrists, and it was dark. How many hours had it been since he felt a sharp pain in his lower back, as if someone had stuck him with a needle, he wasn't sure. Gaves remembered Madeline, waving good bye, and then walking back to Rosewood. It had to be when he was heading back to the Reinhardt isle, Gaves was sure of it. Scratching his chin he slowly lets his eyes adjust to the light; the reveal wasn't anything spectacular. There was a table with two chairs on either side. A single lamp lit up the entire room; its soft light casting a shadow over a slumped over man. Rolling his eyes, Gaves frowned, he didn't do well with cells.

Once, he had only escaped once before, and that was because the nosy noble's guard was too busy chasing after the Lady who went screaming in shock down the halls. It was easy to walk out naked from a manor in the dead of night when nobody locked the cell, or cuffed you. Now Gaves wasn't so free to do as he pleased. The chains from his cuffs led up to a single, ornate eye in the ceiling, as if someone spent the time to carve in the fancy symbol just so it would confuse whoever was placed below it. The strange markings followed the chain, and even marked the cuffs in the same designs. It was for magic, Gaves guessed. Rollings his neck around he inspects his cell closely. Beyond the loose, smelling hay there was nothing for Gaves to use as a tool. He couldn't even choke himself with the chain, it was much too short; the length forced him to either sit, or stand with a crouch.

Suddenly a tall man shrouded in unnatural shadows strolled in. Gaves hardly heard him, let alone saw what was speaking to the slumped over man. The bard tried to lean forward to get a better view, but found moving was especially taxing, like time was slowed for him. Toxins in the blood, Gaves guessed. Light, he hated poisons. "Leah hasn't returned." The shadow said. What a dumb name, Gaves thought. Outside of the cell, the seated man sighs as the shadowy one began tapping his foot. "I do loathe that idle habit." The shadow said. The other stills immediately. "What should we do?" he asks, and another sigh exits the seated man's mouth. "Forget Leah, Vesna. She either succeeded and Quinn is gone and is fucking off in celebration because she always hated her. Or she's more useless than I thought and didn't, and is dead or laid up. If she managed to survive, Quinn is most certainly on the run--she is a coward and Du'Paige never trusted her enough to know where we are, so even if she does grow a spine, or figure out we have her new boyfriend, she won't have a clue where to go." Silence yawns between the two men, before the one identified as Vesna speaks up. "What -about- the bard? Can I have ago now?"

Naturally Gaves wasn't too excited at the chance of meeting this Vesna, another 'great' name. The seated man merely shrugged. "It's not like he has anything we don't know, Quinn gave us plenty." Vesna turns around, facing the cage. His lanky legs carry him towards the door until he produces a ornate key from his pocket. With a simple twist of his wrist the cell door swings open. "I know you're awake, bard." Light, Gaves should have pretend to be dead, it would have helped him now. "I'd like to get to... get to -know- you a bit. Moving to his belt which was a host of vials and tools he removes what seems to be a scalpel. He squints at Gaves, two dull brown eyes making him out in the dark room. Gaves offered a weary smile, praying that the  man would love to be complimented. "How's about I introduce myself first, sir?" Gaves canted his head, masking any fear that was present at the moment.

Vesna towers over Gaves, clearly enjoying the fact that he was imposing a tied up bard. "Sir?" His crooked laugh was horrible to hear. "Try your platitudes elsewhere. We know who you are, Gaves Hillvack the Second, as you say." He turns the scalpel over in his hand. "You're the... -consort- to the Countess Miersae Reinhardt. And, being so -close- to the vaunted lady, I'm sure you can tell us -much- about her. And her holdings. And other juicy secrets. His knees bend slightly, but he still hovered over Gaves' seated form. That dangerously sharp razor tip barely kisses the side of Gaves' face; almost as if Vesna was preparing to mark out where the incision would start and end. Fear crept into Gaves' throat. At the moment he was unable to speak clearly, and was a mess of dry, croaky phrases.  Vesna cackled like a madman, enjoying the display. "Oh, just tell me everything you know, and I'll be gentle." Several yellow teeth showed themselves in a grim smile. Gaves was doomed, and even the light couldn't reach him.

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reblogged

Metal scrapes against porcelain as Madeline pushes her bland dinner around on her plate. The ticking of the old grandfather clock down the hall steadfastly kept the time whether she wanted to or not, and she unwillingly counted minutes as her food grew cold. 

“This is depressing.” she grumbles, shoving her plate away carelessly. 

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A Night

Gaves had the night planned out, or so he thought. It had been a couple months now of Miersae and Gaves, the two of them stuck together like glue whenever there wasn't a crisis with house Reinhardt. Tonight, however was destined to be void of anything pertaining with troubles outside a locked door. Mr. Hillvack really wanted to 'wow' his woman; he had grown so fond of her calling her that: His. He had a massage, bath, poetry, roses, and scented candles ready to roll. Light, if he was missing anything else romantic he would have himself locked up in a cage, and lowered to the bottom of a moat.

A romance novel would have you believe that planning -the- night was as easy as taking a walk. It wasn't, it was very hard, and Gaves was having a hard time coming to terms with -that-. First, it was the candles. Light, there were a lot of candles. The bard, earlier that day, bought two crates of candles, and dragged them to his apartment while Miersae was away, busy thankfully. It took him a good two hours just to set them up in the correct positions; the man went through five drafts of just how they were supposed to look. Finally, with a huff, he set down the last one, satisfied it was done. It didn't occur to him that he still had to light them, light all of them. The bath was perhaps the easiest, a few pots of boiling water, and a couple of scorched fingers later, and the bath was in perfect form. Next came the massage. Gaves thought carefully as he looked about his bedroom for a table to use... there was none. The kitchen table would work. "What am I? A savage?" he said aloud. Sighing, he opted to purchase a large bearskin rug, and lay it over the bed. Bear's had soft fur, at least Gaves thought they did. Leaving his home, he made his way over to the trade district, and bought the most expensive one he could find. Returning home with the large rug rolled up into a tube, Gaves opened his door to find Gus redecorating. His cat, Gus, had thought it was a good idea to knock over half of the candles. The fat, furry beast sprinted about, his wide hips knocking the towers of wax aside as his uncoordinated paws decked the candles like blades of grass. "GUS!" Gaves screamed, almost dropping his rug. The cat screeched to a halt, slamming into another couple candles. His big, blue eyes blinked up Gaves in an annoyed manner, almost as if to say 'What could be so important that you stopped -this-." Like an old woman shooing away a troublesome kid, Gaves hissed. "Shhooo! Shooo! Shoo!" Gus flicked his tail,and dashed away, knocking away more candles in the process.

Cleaning up the battlefield was a hassle, and Gaves cursed loud enough for the good king himself to hear. More time had been wasted, and Gaves STILL had not gotten to the roses, the final piec-... THE WINE! Gaves had forgotten the wine too. Panicked, Gaves checked the clock, he had under an hour left. Promising to skin his cat after he had saved the day Gaves went into overdrive, grabbing any candle that had been damaged in the wake of his pets' frenzy. Into the box they went, stacked atop each other like a mass grave. He would fix it later, Gaves said. With the last candle done away with, Gaves stuck the box of wax under his bed; he hoped Gus would crawl under there, and get himself stuck in the crate. The bear skin rug was promptly placed on the bed, Gaves letting the head hang over one of the sides. Who wanted to look at a scalp, Gaves asked himself. Straightening out the ends, the bard nodded. It was one less thing to panic about now.

In the kitchen now, Gaves went into his cellar, wandering around in the darkness. One of these days he was going to place a light down there. After stubbing his toe twice, he found Miersae's drink of choice: Dalaran Red. Bringing up the bottle from the cellar, he set the dark red liquid on the counter, and moved onto his next task. "I got.. candl- Unlit candles, wine, massage 'table', bath, uh... Roses! Ok, so I- Shoot!" Gaves jumped up, running into the bathroom. He had forgotten the scented bubbles, light how could he have forgotten the bubbles! Throwing up his cabinet he knocked aside salves and bandages until finding the honey, and jasmine blend. It was a small pot labeled 'good'. Praying that it was still 'good' Gaves whipped around, and poured the remaining contents into the tub. The mixture got to work, fizzing about as frothy white bubbles started to rise to the top. Light, there was a lot, maybe too much. Gaves didn't have time to worry about it. Placing the pot back into the cabinet, he sighed. "All done with this one." He left, grabbing a towel with him.

The candles are what really did him in, Gaves thought. With ten minutes left, Gaves wondered how he was going to be able light ALL of them... how?! Praying that time would stop, Gaves moved as fast as he could with a lit candle in hand, using the torch to bring its fellow brethren to the light. Two minutes left, and Gaves had JUST finished the bathroom, lighting the last candle. Setting down his weapon of choice, Gaves looked around, leaving the bathroom -again-. "Bath, check. Massage, check. Wine, check. Candles, check. Towel-" Gaves glanced at the towel resting on the coat rack by the door. ", check. Roses, che-... Roses... Roses. Fuck." Gaves glanced at the clock, it told him he only had two minutes left until Miersae got off from her duties, and made her way home. Feeling the pressure, the bard picked up his satchel, and sprinted to the flower shop. Luckily, it was just down the road.

After he had skinned Gus, Gaves was going to skin this horrible, old woman. Why was she so slow, why?! Nobody had to be that slow. He had asked for three bags of roses petals, and the horrible excuse for a human, with gnarled fingers, plucked from her roses... One at a time. Slamming down the rest of his gold in his coin purse, it was around thirty seven; the bard had over payed by ten gold. Gaves smiled, and shoved the old woman aside with a gentle sweep of his hips. "In a hurry, aren't we?" The old woman said in a bitter tone. "Mhm." Gaves replied in short, ripping free the petals in mass; the shop looked like a group of recruits fresh from the barber. Now, Gaves had his petals, but at what cost? It had to have taken him ten minutes at least. Saying goodbye with a smile, Gaves left with his three bags, sprinting back to his house.

Gaves thanked the light after he kicked his own door down to get inside. "Thank you for being slow, thank you." Gaves mouthed as the bard began to promptly stuff his hands full of the red petals, and toss them on the floor. His effort reflected his work, the end product looking like he had no idea what he was doing. They clumped at certain points, and were too scarce in others. It didn't help that Gus was at it again, attacking the decorations as if they had accosted his family in some way. Just as Gaves reached his bedroom door, he heard someone sliding a key into the door; Miersae was here. Opening the door, Miersae walked into the dim room only lit by candles. "Gaves?" She called, eyes starting to adjust to the darkness. The man was moving as fast as the light, spraying the remaining pedals around until he go the bathroom. Dumping the rest by the tub, he let a few fall in for his 'taste' of course, not because he was rushing. Taking a deep breath, Gaves called again. "There's a towel by the door, go ahead and put that on." Regaining his composer, the man started to cool down. He had done it. By the skin of his teeth, but he had still done it. Adjusting his hair in the mirror, he stuffed the empty bags into the cabinet, and moved on. Gaves gave himself a final nod, and smirk before leaving the bathroom. The candles were just starting to do their job, making the entire apartment smell wonderful. Gaves opened the door, his always smug face on. "I've got -the night- planned out for you."

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Anonymous asked:

Enjoy your wayside.

Gaves paused, trying to figure out the comment. “Right, uh, sure. I uh... Mhm, I sure will, thanks.

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reblogged

Walk of Shame

The inside of her own head isn’t somewhere Madeline’s particularly fond of spending a lot of time, but considering the long, uneventful trip from Stormwind City to Westfall, she has an excess of allowance for personal reflection.

She hates personal reflection.

Y’all need more of this dude.

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A Gang

People always told Gaves that Westfall was a sight to see, and they were right it was. However, it wasn't the sight he wanted to see. The roads were littered with homeless, vagrants, thugs, and thieves. It was Stormwind without the flash of the city, or the safety of the guard.  Smiling through baleful stares, or mumbled lines of threats Gaves walked only with his satchel; he blessed himself for choosing to travel during the day. It was much easier to see who was going to attack you.

He felt bad about what he did to Madeline, though Gaves felt as though the punch was a bit on the nose, literally. Still, his ignorance was the reason for the verdict, so Gaves couldn't hold it against her. Her final words may of been something along the lines of  'You'll never see me again.', but Gaves needed to set things right, he had to. It wasn't right that he had not seen her obvious explanation for her motives, her feelings. In some ways Gaves could only agree, but when Madeline brought up Miersae... well, loves blinds everyone, right?

Packing up his satchel for a trip the following day after Madeline had left, Gaves called up some of his friends from his days as a courier. After exchanging pleasantries he told them of his plight, and explained that  he needed an address for a one Madeline Quinn. Luckily, the red head had made the mistake of putting her farm up for purchase. After an or two of him reminiscing about old times, Gaves saw that daylight was fading. Jotting down the information, Gaves thanked his friends, and set off to Westfall.

Gaves couldn't remember a region hotter than Westfall; his lips were chapped as it was, and had already finished his second water skin. Wiping his sweaty brow he continued down the beaten dirt path that went past various farms full of 'good folk'. His leather boots kicked up the dirt, giving his position away for anyone with a set of eyes. "Why would the light make a place so terrible?" Gaves said to himself, complaining about the situation. Part of him felt that it was useless coming here, that a simple letter would suffice. Perhaps his first mistake was speaking up in the first place; nobody could hear you in your head. Resting on a fence not  twenty feet away were two men, one taller than the other. The largest of the two held his mouth slightly agape, as if he couldn't get enough air through his bent nose. His hair was short, blonde, and filthy. A wonderful citizen of Westfall, he thought. The other was much shorter, but held similar features. They both wore blue overalls, and that's all they wore, greasy from... something, Gaves prayed it was from working in the fields. What separated the two, besides size, was the fact that the smaller one wore a single, unlaced, black boot. Ah, he must be in charge, Gaves thought.

The smaller one smacked the tall man in the shoulder, hard. It would've made someone else flinch, but the lumbering giant blinked, and snapped to attention. Shaking the ground as he walked in front of Gaves, and stopped his progress. The short one came over, a devious look in his eye; Gaves had only seen that type of look from men just about to mug him. "Well, looky here, Edward." The small man spoke, he had to have been at Gaves shoulder, no taller than an average woman. Refusing to snort, Gaves smiled, and bowed his head. "Gentlemen, I am Gaves Hillvack the Second, and it's an absolute privilege to be in your company." The bard promptly bowed  his head, knowing secretly that he had to choose his words carefully. "The name's Howard, and this here is Edward. We're part of the Bluebell Gang." Gaves didn't want to point out that he had already announced  who the big man was, or why they had 'bluebell' for a name, but kept his mouth shut. "We guard these roads, me and Edward, we guard 'em real good." Edward continued to stare straight ahead, almost oblivious to the interaction going on before him. Gaves nodded, and smiled. "I must say you two are doing an excellent job of -that-." The bard gestured to the empty road that went on for miles in front of them. "I think you two may be the best, even." Gaves prayed flattery would work on these simpletons. Howard smiled a toothy smile, now walking around Gaves, like a vulture circling a fresh corpse. "Mhm, sure do... make sure travelers like you make it back safe." Gaves followed him around until he left his sight, then picked him up again when he returned on the other side. "May I ask-" Gaves was interrupted, rude. "Whatcha' got in that purse?" Howard inquired with a sinister tone, now leaning against Edward who was still staring ahead blankly. "Satchel, actually. And, y'know, just your essentials: Water, blanket, some salve for cuts, bandages, dried meats, journal, shaving kit-" Again Gaves was interrupted. "You got gold, hmm? What about gold?" The vulture left his perch, inching closer to the bard. "Oh -that-." Gaves sighed, trying to play the part of the impoverished. "I'm afraid I don't have more than what's in my pockets." It didn’t help that Gaves was wearing clean clothes, and just washed himself.

Howard was really close now, and Gaves didn't like it. His black, beady eyes stared at Gaves like he owed him something; maybe a toothbrush for awful that rancid breath smelled. "Mhm, in your pockets. You hear that Edward?" Edward blinked in confirmation. Howard continued. "Man says he's got gold in his pockets. Why don't you uh, lib-er-ate him of that." Howard looking proud that he conquered the large word. Like a dog Edward followed his order. Closing the distance within a few steps he promptly grabbed Gaves with one hand around Hillvack's wrist, and pulled the bard into the sky. Gaves thought he was tall, but this hulk made him look like a shrimp in comparison. "Give." The equally awful smelling breathed man bellowed.Sighing, Gaves complied. At least they weren't stabbing him, he thought. Reaching into his trousers, Gaves began pulling out gold coin after gold coin, making it a show of how far he had to reach in to grab one. After the seventh, Howard squealed with delight, swarming the dirt to pick up the money. "Seven! Seven already! Edward we're gonna be rich, think of the pie we can buy!" Edward blinked, and his crooked jaw formed a smile. "Pie?" he said in an excited voice. Edward was so excited, that he ended up dropping Gaves... right on top of Howard. The bard landed with a thud, pinning Howard to the ground via his butt. The thug screeched. "GET OFF OF ME!"

Edward jumped about, shaking the earth as he clapped like a schoolgirl. "Oh I love pie! I love pie, Howard!" The distracted giant gave Hillvack a chance to escape, and it was one he would use. Out seven gold, Gaves sprang up from Howard, and began to propel himself down the road. Sucking in air through his mouth, Gaves could faintly make out Howard yelling at Edward to pursue. Faster, and faster Gaves moved, moving his legs like a blur as he tore past the countryside. It was the type of run that used pure adrenaline; Gaves only stopping when the chemical ceased to fuel him. Slowing down his pace, Gaves bent over, and rested his hands on his thighs, panting like a dog. Looking over his shoulder, he inspected to see if anyone had gone after them. They had not. They had to have been the saddest named gang ever. The Bluebell Gang. Gaves snorted at the thought. For now it seemed he was safe. Reaching into his satchel, Gaves fished out his final waterskin, sucking down the warm water before reaching into his other pocket to find the address. Blinking, Gaves looked up, then down again. In the distance he could make out the faint outline of the Quinn family farm. That was it, Gaves thought. Smiling, he tossed everything back into his satchel, and continued down the road. Madeline was getting her apology... whether she wanted one or not.

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