Precious and Fragile Things

Title: Mourn
Fandom; Pairings: World of Warcraft; Savitry/Andor Duskmoon (OFC/OMC)
Prompt: #278 - Rapid Eye Movement
Warnings: Angst, allusions to sex, more angst, and did I mention angst?
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 969
Summary: Savitry confronts the uncomfortable truths of existence among the living.
Notes: I'm back after far, far too long. Life reared its ugly head and my muses have been difficult to rein in. I hope I'm getting my groove back now.

For the living, the word dream was synonymous with hope. Hope for the future, for love, for peace. The dead can only remember what it was to live, to have a heart beating in their chests, to feel the sun warm their skin. The dead did not dream, they mourned. In sleep, the remains of their lives were thrown in stark relief against the reality of an existence among the still living. Perhaps this, Savitry thought, was why so many of her un-dead brethren chose to forgo sleep. That it wasn’t an act vital to their continued survival was a convenient, polite excuse to quell the unease of the living around them. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t wholly true either.

Our acceptance among them is already imperiled by the very nature of our creation. We are evil, unnatural things to them, and perhaps they are right in that. Only our curious sense of self-preservation keeps us from admitting the truth: We resent the living.

( The speech replayed in her mind as it had a thousand times since her hard won freedom from Arthas. )

Title: Meanwhile, in Hammerfall... (Part 2)
Fandom; Pairings: World of Warcraft
Prompt: N/A
Warnings: Folami being a scary, scary warlock.
Rating: PG (Implied threats of violence.)
Word Count: 1,188
Summary: Folami doesn't take kindly to an Alliance troop disrupting her meditation.
Notes: Subtle hints here and there related to Folami's personal plot and development, but nothing really important. I just wanted to write something a little humorous and a little dark since I haven't written anything in approximately forever. As for her being powerful, well Arathi is around a level 30ish zone, so I figured it would be appropriate for her to be able to thoroughly scare the crap out of one Alliance soldier. Part one of this is on the forums and if anyone really wants to read it, I can post it here.

The lovely thing about the Highlands was the abundance of open spaces provided where one could go to be alone and remain relatively undisturbed. Despite her anxiety at separation from her friends and worries over their well-being, Folami couldn't help but enjoy the ample opportunities to meditate under the autumn sun. She'd forgotten what it was like to have a consistent schedule with time devoted solely to her own needs. In fact, her only problem had been the random Alliance troop patrolling through the area. Zaruk had been kind enough to give her a basic idea of when and where the patrols roamed, and the times she knew she'd been spotted she'd been left alone as she had done nothing outwardly aggressive. As with the local wildlife, if she left them alone, they stayed away. But like the Horde, the Alliance was not a monolith and there was the occasional soldier with a chip on his shoulder wanting to prove his skill and loyalty to his superiors, hoping to one day be remembered as a hero.

( Folami sensed him long before he posed any threat to her. )

Very short (679 words) scene written at the behest of Solivar following Thursday night's Call of Cthulu Tavern Night. It's been posted to the guild's rp forums, but I wanted to share it here too.

You couldn’t save them. You cannot even save yourself.

Folami woke already sitting up in bed, her hand on her chest. Her breath came in short gasps and her body shivered despite the warm spring night. Terrified, her eyes darted around the room, each shadow seemingly causing her heart to leap a little higher in her chest.

( Just a dream, it was just a... )

So, this is a little angsty, but the scene it's referring to is pretty dark and angsty itself. My assignment was to write a reaction to an event that happened during the last Tavern Night (actually, it kind of happened before then, but thanks to random asshats crashing our role-play scene we only got to discuss it Tuesday) and here it is. It's very short (only 431 words), a little weak, but I enjoyed writing Tortured-Yet-Defiant Folami. :)

( The walls came alive with shadows that stretched toward the ceiling and danced in time to the flickering flame from a single white candle set in the center of a small table in the cramped quarters of the inn room. )