Roleplay

NO SHAME

anytime!! I think you should probably host, if that's alright; I don't think pink eyes would suit the kiddos very well, lol

Myrddin scowls, but smooths it away. Quinn was not born a tundra? And was shirked because he was not. That he is one now...

He hugs him a little tighter, touch gentling further. "I see," he murmurs, forcing his voice level, no judgement or pity. "It's alright to need something you never had," he adds. "There is no shame in being hurt by another. There is strength in you."

The fluff of Quinn's tail tickles his flank as it winds around him, his head under his chin. Myrddin lays his on top again, cheek tucked to a dark horn. His green eyes stare into the darkness, boring into nothing, though every other sense is keen on the warlock in his arms.

There's a sense of...peace, here. Like he's found a kind of...belonging, which for all his searching, he'd never found. He's beginning to understand why, despite everything, the girl in his fortress had begged him to save her brother, even if it meant he remained a confined thing screaming in the darkness.

Attachment, he's learning, is a complicated and powerful thing, and not one wholly based on reason.

He breathes out, then murmurs, "She forced you to become a tundra?"

Rad, you wanna do it today? I'm sure spending a little time with quinn wouldn't hurt pfft. And yeah-- I think ice eyes suit them better tbh. They're neutral and tend to go with the color choices well.

He grinned softly, the level tone the other forced making him relax a bit. No judgement was there, something he couldn't have stood had it been. "Thank you." His voice was a whisper, choked with heavy emotion and.. Affection, the warlock had a deep affection within that voice of his.

As Myrddin rested upon his head the tundra uncurled a bit, longing to be as close as possible to the source of his affection; the source of his warmth. Two things that had avoided him for far too long now sat in front of him and it was truly glorious. Just the slightest movements made him smiled it seemed, how the other pulled them close and gave them what had been lacking.

This feeling swelled a bit, but Quinn suppressed the happiness rising withing his chest, not wanting to taint the feeling as he was asked questions. That would come back at a better time, one where tears did not threaten to fall with every breath.

"No.." He muttered softly, sighing. "I became one to try and please her, it's stupid really. Become what your abuser wants in the hopes they might love you. I was wrong, and the dragon who changed me was an agent of my mothers. This body I now live in, I can never become anything else. She would never allow me to become anything else now, now that she knew I craved her love.. Instead she gave it to me but as I am seeing now it was fake."

Quinn took a deep breath, suppressing the shiver that wanted to chill his spine. "She gave me just enough to keep me hooked, to keep me alive and make me think she actually could love me. I was wrong, so utterly wrong.."

sure, I'll send the boy over in a sec :D I am excite, aaah

Myrddin, in a very cold and calm way, wants to find this dragon and kill her, slowly. He doesn't express this, nor the fact that he had felt this way before, and had gone through with it. Rarely, in isolated incidents. But there are monsters who merely wish to live, and monsters who must be put down. It seemed Quinn's mother is of the latter category.

His only response is to nestle his cheek against the warlock's mane, breathing in his scent. It's comforting. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, not pity but understanding and acceptance. He has no ill feeling towards Quinn's form, though the warlock might, and the only thing he can do is prove that he is beautiful despite it, or even because of it. He begins to brush through heavy fur with his claws, gently undoing tangles and scritching his back.

"That is typical of abusers," he continues, quiet. "It's not your fault, you know. No parent should do such a thing." Maybe it's something Quinn knows already, but he reinforces it, all the same. After a moment, he gently says, "It got worse, didn't it." It's not quite a question.

A three egg nest! Ahh I'm excited

The nestle gained a smile, a rapid beating heart as the other got closer. It was quickly back to its normal beat, but for a few moments it had fluttered wildly. Those soft words of comfort eased him once again, Myrddin seemed to have such a wonderful way with words, one which Quinn enjoyed greatly. The touch, untangling of the knotted fur, it was a laborious task but the coatl didn't seemed mind. What a wonderful dragon he had stumbled upon, or well had stumbled upon him really.

"Yes.. it got so much worse.." The warlock took a deep breath, biting back the sob that wanted to leave him. No, he needed to get this out, finally tell someone. "She took my eyes, blamed them for things my young mind accepted... But our relationship changed, I relied on her because she took away my sight; stripped me of watching what was truly happening, it was all part of her plan." The tundra slowly let go of the robes, instead wrapping his arms around the coatl's torso.

"So now I could not see the looks of disgust she gave me, I could never see how each note I spoke make her gag.. She didn't want to just kill me, she wanted to make me suffer, but in order to do that she had to make me rely on her.." Another sigh left him, tears threatening to fall, but forced down with a couple deep breaths. "I did not posses such strong magic back then, or well not that I knew off. There had always been signs, but my mother told me to disregard them." It pained him to call her mother, hurt him visibly. Something was wrong with that word, it was the word she forced onto him. Nothing else just mother. Only mother.

\o/ aaah that's so good I'm excite!! three tiny floofs~

oh my god quinn is going to dote on them

Myrddin grits his teeth, then flicks his tongue through them, forcing his jaws apart. His teeth are sharp and thin, meant for the flesh of fish, and if he grits them too sharply, he can cause his gums damage.

So instead, he focuses on Quinn's breathing, on the way he eases into the grooming. There's stripes of colour there, and he smooths them straight, until the fur is glossy and soft to the touch. "There are ways to regain sight," he says, quietly. "Unless she stopped those ways." There are clerics, he knows, who can do things to help, and there is magic to create a facsimile of a lost sense. He'd go and learn each and every art to help him.

"If nothing else...my eyes are yours." The pearls, still caught in Quinn's claws, are cool against his side. He'll string together enough to bind the world, so the tundra might see. Then he huffs a laugh. "Though," he teases, "I worry that, once you catch glimpse of my hat, you'll turn tail."

Me too, ugh I'm in love already

Quinn is gonna spoil those kids rotten

"I'm afraid I'm too frightened to want my eyes back. If I saw her again I don't think I could handle things, too much pain would be brought back and seeing that stare.." Quinn shook his head quickly, burying his face into the other's chest. Those cruel eyes still haunted him, nightmares caused by the stare. Chills ran down his spine, the thought of seeing his mother again caused him to panic. The warlock knew she still lived, he knew she got closer to finding him as each day passed.

"Besides, my sockets are far too damaged and sensitive for much of anything anymore. She made sure I would not be able to gain sight without more pain... But I cannot foresee what might happen if I was able to see again... I have learned to live without sight, survive without it." He sighed, "The gesture is kind and I appreciate it but I do not wish to see again for then I could see her and she could do more damage." Quinn's voice shook, this woman had caused him to shatter, broke him from a young age and forced him to seem fixed.

The warlock was far from fixed, he hardly held himself together all these years and now he was being held together by the coatl comforting touch, those memories which threatened to break his weak form could not gather enough strength while he laid on the other's chest. A steady heartbeat and warmth sheltering him from the dead memories that wanted to freeze him. The comment caused a smile, and the tundra shook his head.

"Your hat could not drive me away Myrddin for your sweet gestures and voice will always draw me back." The warlock flushed at his own words, sighing softly as he inhaled the scent. It was pleasing, a comforting scent he couldn't quite place, but soothing nonetheless. Biting down on his cheek the other debated about continuing, but if he stopped then she would win.

"... Once she took my eyes-" He paused, steadying the fearful voice, "Once she took my eyes I was her puppet for years. I was born with a powerful magic she taught mt to control wrongly, making me attack and lash out at those she wished with a simple word she spoke. I was her plaything, useless, non-threatening, and so much blood has stained me... Yet she kept pushing me, saying that I didn't love her unless I did this or that and I was stupid enough to believe her.." The other cried softly, letting the guilty tears slip again.

He had caused so much suffering to others but he couldn't have controlled himself if he tried, his mother had made sure of this. Quinn was a powerful weapon for her, not a child, however, the tundra didn't realize this. Even as he relieved the torment he felt so much guilt in the actions, couldn't comprehend he was manipulated from the start.

I'm hoping for a cute girl tbh...just because lord I fear myrddin with a tiny daughter he can spoil

Myrddin draws a long, slow breath. Yes, he wants to kill her, and it seems she's still alive for him to do so. The tundra shudders in his arms; for all his power, the thought of his mother frightened him to the point of reverting to the helplessness of a hatchling. And it's not unusual; Myrddin has seen power that Sornieth would quake under fall to a single sharp word from a cruel father, a single manipulative snipe from an enabling mother. People that power could destroy, should it be released, but so very weak against them, because of the grips they had on the wounded child who bore it.

He ceases the grooming to instead begin petting, long strokes from head to waist, following Quinn's long dark mane. "That isn't your fault," he says, quiet, and when Quinn shifted as though to protest, he hushes him gently until he stills.

"Someone broken to another's will is not to be blamed for what that will demanded," he continues, firm but quiet. "That blood is on your mother's hands. A sword does not kill someone, Quinn. The person wielding it does."

He believes this completely, and there's conviction in his tone. A confused child who knows no different cannot learn without first being taught. A victim under the abuse of a parent cannot escape without someone first showing them that they can. A support structure is necessary for such people, and it seems to him that Quinn has never had such, or at least, has had one that tries, but cannot wholly succeed.

He can't blame those here for that.

He smiles, trilling a soft laugh. "Maybe I'll let you see my face," he teases. "I'll warn you, I'm quite silly looking. And green."

I'm just so excited about the kids tbh- I don't have any hopes I'm just ready

Quinn took note of the difference in his breathing, how they got shallow as his mother was mentioned. It was perhaps out of anger seeing as the coatl seemed to breathe strongly. Why was he upset about this? It was merely his past- then it hit the tundra hard. The realization that this touch wasn't faked or false, it was real. Myrddin really cared for the warlock, and his heart throbbed.

He knew the coatl was right, had always hoped that this wasn't his fault. The touches soothe him, but as he tries to speak he is silenced. Perhaps for the better, the words will wait as he listens to the other speak. The tundra melts into the others touch, arching slightly to meet the gentle ministrations.

".. You're right. I was merely a weapon she chose to wield." The statement hurt him severely, all he had wanted was the love and affection he thought mothers provided. Never had he wanted to be used, manipulated from the start, and this is when yet another realization hit him. The mage was painfully right, he had no choice in what he had done, no choice in how his mother chose to abuse him. His shoulder drooped, a grimace slipping onto his features.

"I just wanted love.. Something pleasant.. But instead I was the mistake she hated and used to kill, keep the blood from staining her own claws." there was a sad chuckle and the fluffy warlock wilted inside the others arms. Yet another thought filled his head, one which caused the wilted man to live a little more, hope returned.

Chuckling softly the tundra allowed that spark of hope to ignite within him, air becoming lighter, warmer around them. "My favorite color is green, just another thing to add to the list of things I love about you." His voice was light, cheerful, but there was hesitation. Something nagging him which the tundra was holding back.

YES

five days hhhhh

Myrddin's heart rattles against his ribs, but he hears the tentative edge to Quinn's tone. Gently, his petting unabated, he murmurs, "What is it?"

It...yes, he's frightened, just a little. That Quinn will decide there's too much to allow someone close again, or that he's too broken to deserve something like this. He squeezes him, just slightly, not confining but secure. Whatever is bothering him, he'll try to put to rights.

He's ridiculously protective of the warlock, he's coming to understand. He wants to find every small hurt that someone else inflicted and return it to them sevenfold, and keep Quinn far from any other attempted hurt.

What a fool he is, he thinks, but fondly, and with a hint of helpless laughter.

UGH EXCITEMENT IS REAL

also my sweet boy is just so sweet

The warlock buried his face into the other's chest, hoping to stifle the words he wished to spill. It was going to be embarrassing, a soft admission of feelings he hoped wouldn't be rejected. Quinn needed Myrddin, needed the gentle touch and teasing words; needed the sweet gestures and comfort he was given.

The squeeze gave him reassurance, more hope that the words he was going to spoke would be reciprocated. Mustering the courage he spoke softly, still buried in the other. "Myrddin I need to get something off my chest.." He began, voice almost entirely stifled by the fabric. There was a long pause and the coatl felt his heart whamming against his chest, slight tremors racking his body.

Were confessions always this difficult? "I really enjoy the time we've spent, and appreciate you greatly.." Quinn paused again, searching for the words. "And I want this relationship to become something.. Deeper. There's this feeling within my chest, it squeezes my ribs so tight yet I am allowed to breathe, and every little action you do makes me melt and smile.."

His words stopped, most of the muffled, but he had a feeling the coatl had heard most of what was said.