1. Hector

    Open Buried Roots [KoA]

    A deep cool breath. So swirled with all the weight of things. Bitterness. Sharp and acrid down to his gut. The buoy of his warm uncle's words. The bright sting of his sharp uncle's refusal. It was alright. Nothing was alright. When I die. They were dead. They all died. Would all be burned...
  2. Hector

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope [M]

    It all comes squeezed tight. Strong. Wanting and welcoming. She draws him in. More and more with each ply of his finger, then fingers. Knuckle deep, down to the gutters. All the gush and slick sop of their doing, like sun warmed sap in the wells of his digits and her thighs. It drives him on...
  3. Hector

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope [M]

    "Ah...w-w—! Ah... Ah want et," "You want it?" Braise slipped down in bunches. Skin bared against the whispering grass about them. All the moving contours of her draw his eyes down. Breath pumping. Heart beating. Body twisting. So small each movement, seems the world to his eyes. Down to that...
  4. Hector

    Private Forced Divide

    A long daggerous claw gleamed with the fire light there behind Kilhara. Eyes so dilated they looked to be a pair of eclipsed moons, wide and all seeing. So conspicuous was the site, a whole ass man seemingly manifested behind the big brute, that even the mercenaries, bound and bundled there as...
  5. Hector

    Open Surely we'll sing of no little thing

    "Can call me Jim if it suits you, Ma'am," he went on, heel toe, heel toeing with the fiddle's wail. Never one to shy away from a dance, he hop stepped there to the bold woman's arm, the dance there calling for one hand to mirror the other, and there dance about the palm's kissed. "Though most...
  6. Hector

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope [M]

    Thumb's pad works over the hard length of her collar bone. Calloused fingers round and grab up the heft of muscle there at the base of her neck as she squirms and works free the cords about her waist. Each little sound. Each breath working through her. Tender and raw with want. Is it her...
  7. Hector

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope [M]

    Skin to skin and bone to bone, cools and tingles there beneath the run and press of their body's weight through cloth. The give and grind of softer parts finding firm resistance and constraint. Against hosen. Against braise. One another. She shifts, and he shifts. Her breath hot against his...
  8. Hector

    Open Surely we'll sing of no little thing

    "Oh, come now, Syr Alaric, I've already stated my apologies for being a tad tardy to the briefing," Hector assured, motioning to the flagon of booze there before the moody dusker. "There's no need to be cross, now, is there?" He wore a tabbard of forest's green and sand's muted gold. Gambeson of...
  9. Hector

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope [M]

    "What of missen?" he echoes. Heart already balmed by the press of her weight against his. The full drink of her stare, taking him in. He lets his head knock soft against hers. The space still there between them but the kisses of eyelashes and the swirl of breath about their lips. Their steps...
  10. Hector

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope [M]

    Daro Laloc had a mustache that reminded Hector of his uncle, Oliver. Eyes of a deep warm umber that carried that same pensive weight to them. A baldness and a habit of smoking the long pipe, which were all his own. Stoking that flame now, amidst walnut body, with the measured drag drag that...
  11. Hector

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope [M]

    "He'll be here," Lefelen assures Osytha. If only because he had to be. If he wasn't. If he was captured. Sando stays low. Face a weave actively being knit by waves of feeling he can't quite get a handle on. Lips tremble. Brows quirked. Eyes squint, well past shut. Forefinger and thumb grasp at...
  12. Hector

    Private The Ballad of the Blighted Shore

    Hector tilted his head. Seeing the change in the earth. The way it all swirled and stuck. Like the sheen off tar, or black oil. He knew it as the sign to some foreign substance. An iridescence he had seen in the shroud. Yet he could not place it. This color like that about the brightness of...
  13. Hector

    Private Forced Divide

    Embers bright in his eyes dashed out from his hands. All that fire there within the twines of live, frayed and spilled and would go on spilling, gush after pumping gush if he did not- A cool hand came against his. Cupped. Steadied. Breath found again. Bones aligned with nerves and flesh and...
  14. Hector

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope [M]

    There in his own bedroll, he lays with eyes wide upon her. Soft, if only for the lull of sleep that pulls at him now that his bones had found such place to rest. "Has been of great use, already, Syr," he assures her. "I've no doubt it will be of more," A screaming, whirring, tearing scrape...
  15. Hector

    Private Forced Divide

    Twas the noise the other lot made that buzzed and rattled against his skull. Made him feel the split of skin, and crack of bone all the more against each cord of his own mortality. Still. He saw with eyes of Flame. Those countless fibers, like so many fine hairs of linen spooled together and...
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