Show Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.


Topics - Peregrine Runner

Pages: [1]
1
Glacia Archives / An Actual Door to Knock On [cw]
« on: February 07, 2019, 09:35:09 PM »
Tonight was the first time in weeks Peregrine left the house without the intention of being back shortly. It was strange to leave Birdy behind. And he didn’t like it one bit. Kite had to swear ten times over he wouldn’t leave. That he would sleep with the cradle in his room. The maid, despite Peregrine’s demands, was still a virgin. He didn’t know how to bring the subject up again without making her cry. And he hated the smell of her fear in the house. Around the baby.

What could he do other than grouse? Get rid of her, if she didn’t figure the shit out. But those were lesser problems for the moment. He would just not be able to leave her alone with Birdy. Which meant he would drag her ass across Terrielle to take care of his daughter, since it was her job and he couldn’t trust her with such a glaring vulnerability. The whole thing set the entire house on edge. Kite disliked the ‘bullying’. And Starling treated the very idea of a Virgin Night like a personal threat. None of it made Peregrine good company. And he had already decided he was sleeping in Meols. Either with Kirsi, if she had forgiven him for nearly killing them all, or in one of the fancy Red Moon Houses built over the hot springs.

One firm set of knocks was all the patience that Peregrine had. When Kirsi did not invite him in right away, or even probe to see who was at the door he opened it. If she had set locks they were beneath his notice this time. Frustration made his shoulders square. But concern liked the set of his eyebrows. A low curve that started on the far side of one and traced across his whole brow to the other. ”Kirsi?” He called.

Boots dusted off at the door he moved deeper into her house. Hovering in the space between kitchen and sitting room. Not sure which he was more likely to find her in. He wouldn’t invade her room. Or probe overmuch. But he had to know how much trouble was rising up around them. What she had told this sjef, if anything at all. The letter he sent to Solveig seemed filled with third party information more than fact. That way they could both be on their toes.

Which was a strange thing to even think of Kirsi. If ever there was a paranoid woman in the world it was that witch. Suspicion was the natural expression of her eyes. Annoyance the general mien of her person. Or maybe that was just for Peregrine. He had that effect on people. Arm stretching up over his head he gripped the frame of the entry to the kitchen and sighed. ”We need to talk.”

@dergon

2
Askavi Archives / toto, we're not in kansas anymore
« on: December 16, 2018, 12:38:30 AM »

Jaw tight to keep from grunting Peregrine limped on through the crowd with Kite’s help. There was very little left in his Jewels. Power turned to shields that had kept them from death. And manifested the grief of failure into a living beast. He searched his heart for a shred of guilt. Teary eyed widows looking up hopefully with each fresh face that passed into Askavi.

Every step was agony but he trudged on until they stopped. Staking out a circle for themselves. Kite wrapped it in a shield. Hovering like a manic fly without actually speaking to any of them. Nothing seemed to quite make sense for Peregrine. Eyes darting from one face to the next. He wouldn’t say it out loud but he couldn’t keep hold of what was happening. Just the large pieces of the puzzle. Dragon. Daughter. Danger.

”We left Winnie...” He mumbled to the maid as if she had not been there to witness the whole affair. It had made sense before he said it outloud, he was sure. Leaning over his knees he groaned, fingernails raking on his pants leg. It hurt still. And his head too. A dull sort of throb that was more a strange weight at his temples than actual pain.

Others blistered with the real thing all around them. Men and women with skin turned black screaming their way out of the gate. It startled Peregrine into standing, Craft sweeping to try a shield but Kite battered it down. ”Stop that. You’ve none left.” His scolding reminded Peregrine of when he had been a little boy. Kite had been a bully of big brother. Never letting Peregrine have any real fun. He had seemed so wise too, and ten feet tall. It felt like Peregrine would never catch up. He wished they turn back time so he could climb onto his brother’s back and get carried home.

”Why’s he look so pale?” Kite tried, and failed, to whisper to Starling. Looking down at his hands Peregrine tried to determine if he was, in fact pale. And then she called him. With a squeaking sort of grunt. Fat little fists working their way towards her mouth. She rooted over them like a dog shook a bone. Held against the nursemaid who did not offer to replace the babe’s fingers with something more nurturing.

Ignoring the violent shudder in his leg bone he scooted closer. Peering at the baby as if he had never seen one before. ”What is it, Lovely? Hmm?” He had never talked with Winnie about her hopes for their child. If she had been dreaming of a certain sex, or caste, or Jewels. Or even a name. He would think of one later. Reread the letter for a hundredth time and see if she had hinted at one in there. ”Come look at her Starling. You were wrong. She is your niece.”

"Starling was half that size as a newborn. And almost as cute." Kite teased. He came over slowly, watchfully. For a moment Peregrine thought it was the maid. But he realized he was pushing, with a tendril of his Sapphire. A thread to keep them all back. "Sorry." He whispered dropping it away as the baby started to cry in growing hunger.

@dergon if you wanna.

3
Glacia Archives / The Home Game
« on: September 13, 2018, 06:54:42 PM »

The year wasn’t even half done and Perry was breaking into a queen’s house for the second time. Ironic, really, considering all the time he had dedicated to doing the exact opposite. Youth overshadowed by attempts to train him into a useful tool. He hated the place.

Not Reric as a whole, just the sjefholme. Stinking of queen scent the minute you entered the yard. Collar high and shields higher he made for the line of trees nestled against the residential wing. In his time in the big house all the apprentices had used them as ladders to come and go. They must have known, the adult back then. Why they didn’t cut them down he didn’t know.

Not that it would have contained Perry any. He would have gladly broken limbs to get away. Nothing would have stopped him. Just as nothing was aware enough to try now. Corridor window popped open with a wedge of Craft. Invisible to even the most trained eye. Though he doubted any would be trying. Who would expect him to come willingly?

Only a few grains of dirt from the treads in his boots to evidence he was there at all. Solveig had an office just as Irisviel, and probably every ruling queen, did. But Peregrine didn’t bother going there. Instead he made his way silently down the hall to the biggest room of them all. Funny that they gave it to the queen, but called the house the sjef’s home.

It was that stuffy sort of clean he always associated with Solveig. Bleak in decor as she was in person. At least to Peregrine, who liked the homeliness of bare wood walls and knitted blankets. He went through the door to keep from drawing attention. Watchful as he entered the room, not sure if she was inside or still downstairs. Hopefully she was at dinner a bit longer. He wanted time to lounge on her bed and mentally rehearse his various argument. An acre, that was all he needed. And he had the marks to pay.

@dergon

4
Glacia Archives / implications
« on: August 25, 2018, 10:22:19 AM »

Places snow didn’t touch in winter. Lands were it was warm year round. Coastal territories and landlocked deserts. Peregrine thought about them all the time. Dreamed at night of sticking his nose in soft hair as curly a his own. Little boys with Kirsi’s funny ears and the slow, crooked grin he shared with his brother. A hundred faces forming in his imagination while he glanced hopefully at every child he crossed in his travels. All he knew for sure was where Rias was not. The frustration of their being a whole wide world to search was nearly overbearing.

Tearing him in two directions. He wanted to stay out longer, and tried to make excuses to stay on the road. Searching. His siblings were no fools, they knew what he was doing. Only his sister seemed to mind, weedling Kite into a shifting sort of support if not agreement. But he was just as eager to get home. Back to Kirsi in her little cave so he could see if she had learned anything new in his absence.

A couple of weeks turned to a few. Excuse after excuse, dealing and trading along the way. Until he couldn’t put it off anymore. He’d earned two seasons worth of marks in half of one. It was time to go back to Kaeleer and make sure his son’s mother was getting enough to eat.

To sleep in his own bed a few nights. Speak to his own mother, make plans for the future. He wanted Winnie and the baby to move to Glacia. Where it would be easiest to see and care for both. Temper soothed by his private thoughts about a second chance. This time things would be different. He knew, ahead of time, there was a baby to prepare for.

Before any of that, though, came Kirsi and Rias. The taste of his own failure metallic under his tongue as he sent probes ahead of himself into her cave. ”You here, Kitten?” He called by way of greeting, probes already lapping at her heels.

”Doing alright then I see.” She was a little less bone. Not as healthy as he thought she should be, but steady meals had put a bit of sheen in her hair and warmer color under her skin.

5
Dena Nehele Archives / The Runner and The Shrew
« on: July 31, 2018, 07:25:02 PM »

All the women in both realms had turned to sassy brats. Peregrine was tired of walking around with his temper barely contained. Even his older-younger brother was being a pain in the ass. Questioning him a thousand times over, on Starling’s ‘suggestion’ he was sure. They couldn’t understand how he just knew that Rias was his son. There was no way to explain, either. Something in Kirsi’s eyes was so honestly pained. Somewhere, at some point there had been a baby. One that she believed beyond a shadow of a doubt was his son. He believed her. Even if he wasn’t entirely convinced there was a living child to find all these years later.

He would try. Until the day he died. Because he couldn’t live with himself if he gave up or ignored her, only to learn she’d been right all along. A boy waiting for his parents, or not knowing where he actually came from.

It made his blood boil. Petulant queens that made him promise unnamed favors to use their stupid gates. So that he could hike his temperamental little sister through to the other realm. Because Kite had pouted and she had pouted until he’d agreed. Now they were ganging up on him.

Especially mad this week because he’d plopped them down in Dena Nehela. Backwater territory with backwards people. Nothing to trade with or for. He knew, and Kite knew, because they’d stopped for supplies a time or two. There was something there Peregrine wanted though. Or rather, someone.

A queenling with the Purple Dusk for an Offering Jewel. She always tried some trick or another to make him stay or come along. But he was so beneath her in the Abyss her craft rolled off him without his even trying. She was a good lay. Worth the annoyance of her interest in the way she pet him. That mouth. Mother Night, he had actually thought about bringing her along for a while just for more of that.

She would have made Kite distracted and sweaty, though. So he’d left her again. Not intended to come back at all, but he could use the relief after the time he’d had in Little Terrielle, then trading in Dhemlan and Hayll. Excuses made he left his siblings to do their petting and coddling at the inn. Probes tracking his dear friend Winnie until he found her not very far from the city. In a strange old manor house. He didn’t knock. Because he didn’t know the people there. Slipped in quietly under shields until he found her in a room that was rich with her scent. Back turned to him as he closed the door, keeping his psyche and jewels masked so no one else would suspect he was there. ”Hello beautiful.”

@dergon

6
Little Terreille Archives / Peekaboo
« on: April 24, 2018, 12:23:53 PM »
It was raining. One of those bleak sort of days that makes you close the curtains. Strange to see actual rain instead of snow, Peregrine thought. At home it rarely ever rained. All the weather got caught up in the mountains that surrounded Reric. Kept it warmer than most of Glacia in winter, but dry too. Not as good for farming as Meols.

Here in Little Terreille it was a sign that winter was slowly giving way to spring. The wind still bit to the bone with a harsh chill. So Peregrine slipped his long woolen coat on. It was black, worn down to gray around the seams. A few red threads keeping a tear around his rib cage closed. Not ready for the garbage heap yet, but it was not the sort of thing most people would have put on to visit a territory court.

Peregrine was Peregrine, though, so he did. Matched it with worn work boots. The rest of his clothing, at least, was in good shape. Dark pants and a bone white shirt. Not that anyone could appreciate it. Ebon-gray sight shields wrapped tightly around his body. Impenetrable even to the Gray queens in Walcourt’s big house. Now the Other One, well, he might be a problem. There were so few Ebon-gray’s it was natural they were more attuned to the arrival of one another.

So he tread carefully. Quietly. Took his time slipping through the gates and the front door. Made no mistakes. Psychic tendrils effectively masking most of his scent. There were dark jewels about, though. A Gray wearing queenling, but not the one he sought, that turned her head in his direction as if she heard his footfalls in the hall. Some wide eyed black widow that smiled right at him as if he wore no shields at all. This, he decided, was a very strange court.

And a very hyper aware one. There were queen killers about, he had heard though, so it made sense.

Eventually wrong turns and empty rooms gave way to private quarters. An office that could only belong to a ruling queen. Her scent clinging to the desk and windowsill. It was empty, but Peregrine waited. Standing at the window himself, wondering how often she paced back and forth between it and the chair. There was no visual sign but he could feel on the psychic plane the trail left behind.

Behind him the doorknob turned but he was watching a small group of boys playing some stick and ball game across the way. Their small figures darting around the open field. His eyes pulled away slowly, arm braced on the wall above the window, head barely turning. ”Good morning, Lady Craig.”

@dergon

7
Glacia Archives / Come And Get Me
« on: March 03, 2018, 07:12:59 PM »
The burning started in that dark place between soul and psyche. In Kirsi’s cave Peregrine had managed to contain the anger and frustration. Mostly. Her walls would stink like him for years. Stained by the initial outburst. But he had not raged properly. Not there where he might hurt the only link he had to his child. His missing child.

Rias, a son; a missing son he couldn’t see or touch or protect.

Spurred on by the growing need to release his temper Peregrine took to the sky. A coal black cloud of witchstorm surrounding his boat instead of the usual sight shields. Probes pouring over the sides of his small boat as it cut through the air. South right over Meols until he could see the villages of another territory on the horizon. Askavi and Little Terreille both a stone’s throw away.

When he sensed a clear space of several miles Peregrine dropped from the sky in a swirl of thundering hail. Ship halved on landing since he had found no water or been gentle with the task. Alone with his building storm he let the temper climax. Frightening away the wild things that might lurk in the distance woods.

This was a good place for screaming. For storming and raging.

Empty of most people, though he didn’t bother to check well. The roiling warning of his Ebon-gray should be enough warning, he thought. If not then the promise of death in the clouds that descended from the sky along with him ought to be. Otherwise they would die.

And he didn’t care. Hands beating at the ground. Power shifting into something blunt and hard. Mind blind to anything but the absolute wrenching in his chest. ”Why didn’t I know? A son, dammit. An tiny baby child that needed me! How could I not have felt him? Why can’t I feel him now?” He screamed at no one. Blaming himself, but also the Darkness.

How, how, how? How had someone from his own Blood come into the world without his knowing? Why had there not been a moment to mark such a significant thing? And the child! Where was he? How could Peregrine find him? Was he safe? Was he scared? Was he loved? So help him by Hellfire and Witch’s Blood he would burn the realm to the ground to find that boy.

Working down from livid rage to quiet despair took a long time. Hours probably. But eventually Peregrine was not tearing an actual hole in the realm anymore. Storm crackling down to a steady drizzle that cooled his too hot skin. Sick with the expulsion of power and pain of the land. Torn open by his upset. Ground rifted wide. A giant hole where good land had been. Mud in the bottom from the rain. He laid on his back, staring up at the dissipating clouds. He would hear it for this shit now. Cranky old sjefs and queens. They’d send people to reign him in. Maybe he would wait right here for them. Huffing as he tried to catch is breath Peregrine decide he would. Wait right here for anyone that wanted to fight him about a little tainted land. When he was done killing them he'd fix his boat. He had a son to find.

8
Glacia Archives / Think Twice, Darling
« on: February 17, 2018, 10:48:20 PM »
Fuck winter. Fuck the ice. Fuck the sleet. Fuck the snow.

Peregrine had, had enough of wading calf deep in the biting cold. Boots damp, toes numb. Fingers shoved so far into the pockets of his coat he wasn’t sure they even existed anymore. The weather was more than just a nuisance, too. Froze the glass vials of opium in the cave where they were hidden. Ruining his entire shipment! Thousands of marks lost.

He pulled his hands free of the cashmere lining in his coat to breathe on them. It didn’t help at all. Cursing into the icy air as it started to snow again he widened the range of his probes. Searching. Prying into every crack and crevice. Testing the air for any hints of warmth.

There.

A few yards. Uphill so it felt like a few thousand. Rocks crumbling underfoot. Unseen beneath the packed snow. Stumbling as his limbs chilled to the bone. He tried a warming spell that only lasted a few minutes. Too hot! Too cold without it. Shit he hated winter!

For a second he stood puzzled. Finally reaching the spot but not finding the cave entrance he expected. There was something there though, he could feel it along his Webs. An illusion. Strong enough to blind him to the truth, but not strong enough for his probes to miss the flavor.

A secret spot. Grinning he pushed a hand through. It was warm on the other side. The rock shimmered and trembled as his touch passed right through. Perfect! Just the sort of handy shit to make up for his long, miserable trek. Stepping sideways through the illusion Peregrine whistled. The sound filled the cavern, bounced over water.

Yep. Perfect. Somewhere with a steamy spring to keep his next acquisition from shattering. ”This’ll do.”
@dergon

Pages: [1]

Welcome to Witchlight

We are an AU Black Jewels RPG that is continuously expanding the world lore to truly make it our own. Come join us and play in our sandbox!

Open for over a year, we have 9 unique races, from birds to wolf-shifters. Feel free to drop into our Discord, lurk our wanted ads, and see if Witchlight is the fantasy site you should always have been looking for.

We have an RPG Rating of:

Timeline

SPRING - AW103

The seasons will change on 12/19.

Recent Topics

Afternoon Snack by Aramis Dupuis
[Yesterday at 09:47:32 PM]


Transactions by The Darkness
[November 11, 2019, 05:17:41 PM]


Prisoners & Poisoners by Harrow
[November 02, 2019, 08:02:06 AM]


The restless wife by Emile Dupuis
[October 22, 2019, 12:24:44 AM]


Event: Rivers of Ruin by Irisviel Crag
[October 20, 2019, 10:54:56 AM]

Chat

Guest Friendly Discord
login & choose a name, no registration required!

Wanted Spotlight

The Second
Eunuch | Open Jewels | Paon
Hand to the Mother Priestess

Rumor Mill

Credits

Witchlight is loosely based upon the Black Jewels Series by Anne Bishop though it has been adapted and expanded by our members. All lore, characters, and writing belongs to the members. Site graphics & custom codes were created by the staff. A special thanks to Wolf & Katarina for all their help with the planning of Witchlight and the writing of the base lore.

Community Awards Winner