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thearena2015-03-14 09:41 pm
dreadinquisitor) wrote in thearena2015-03-14 09:41 pm
Entry tags:
Don't try to wake me in the morning, 'cause I will be gone
WHO| Dorian and Maxwell
WHAT| Awkward bird shenanigans and pollen related death funtimes
WHERE| Various locations in the arena
WHEN| Backdated to weeks 4 and 5
Warnings/Notes| Death, possible language, angsty-angst... will add any more as they become necessary.
Week 4 - Jabberjay Trap:
If Maxwell had stopped, even for a moment to really think about what he was hearing, he would have known it was a lie at best, if not the outright trap it truly was. He would have recognized how it didn't add up, and how suspicious it was.
But he didn't stop. Didn't think.
He had been on his way back to camp, tired and cold, when he heard it. A voice he would have known anywhere, calling out to him. A whisper at first, something he might even have imagined, but then louder. Then twisted.
A single word, broken by desperation. By pain.
Amatus!
Maxwell twisted on the spot, snow and ice kicking from under his boots, eyes wide and wild as they jumped over the trees around him.
"Dorian!"
It came again, a shrieking, screaming call and he ran, near blind, after it.
Week 5 - Pollen:
Bayard wasn't really one of his. He wasn't from Thedas, wasn't a face he'd known from before - wasn't even a name he'd know, but Maxwell felt responsible for the boy. He'd brought him to their camp, had promised they would help him.
That they would keep him safe.
That Bayard had run away of his own choice meant little. Maxwell blamed himself for not warning him, for not taking the time to properly introduce him to everyone. The Iron Bull could be dis-quietening even to those who knew what he was, and Bayard was from an entirely different world; of course he would find Bull frightening.
It was another mistake on Maxwell's part; one he was determined to set right.
Throughout the night he searched for any sign of the boy, and come morning, he was still absent from the Thedosian camp, doubling back on a trail he'd thought was Bayard's, certain he'd missed something.
WHAT| Awkward bird shenanigans and pollen related death funtimes
WHERE| Various locations in the arena
WHEN| Backdated to weeks 4 and 5
Warnings/Notes| Death, possible language, angsty-angst... will add any more as they become necessary.
Week 4 - Jabberjay Trap:
If Maxwell had stopped, even for a moment to really think about what he was hearing, he would have known it was a lie at best, if not the outright trap it truly was. He would have recognized how it didn't add up, and how suspicious it was.
But he didn't stop. Didn't think.
He had been on his way back to camp, tired and cold, when he heard it. A voice he would have known anywhere, calling out to him. A whisper at first, something he might even have imagined, but then louder. Then twisted.
A single word, broken by desperation. By pain.
Amatus!
Maxwell twisted on the spot, snow and ice kicking from under his boots, eyes wide and wild as they jumped over the trees around him.
"Dorian!"
It came again, a shrieking, screaming call and he ran, near blind, after it.
Week 5 - Pollen:
Bayard wasn't really one of his. He wasn't from Thedas, wasn't a face he'd known from before - wasn't even a name he'd know, but Maxwell felt responsible for the boy. He'd brought him to their camp, had promised they would help him.
That they would keep him safe.
That Bayard had run away of his own choice meant little. Maxwell blamed himself for not warning him, for not taking the time to properly introduce him to everyone. The Iron Bull could be dis-quietening even to those who knew what he was, and Bayard was from an entirely different world; of course he would find Bull frightening.
It was another mistake on Maxwell's part; one he was determined to set right.
Throughout the night he searched for any sign of the boy, and come morning, he was still absent from the Thedosian camp, doubling back on a trail he'd thought was Bayard's, certain he'd missed something.