Anduin Wrynn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chosenbylight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2022-07-01 02:50 pm
chosenbylight) wrote in westwhere2022-07-01 02:50 pm
[OPEN]
WHO: Anduin Wrynn and YOU?
WHEN: During the Priest's Plot
WHERE: On the deck of the Pariah & below in the sleeping quarters
WHAT: Anduin gets a little carried away and knocks himself out for 2 days...
WARNINGS: None so far!
NOTES: You can encounter him on deck when he first passes out or when he's waking up (someone's gotta get him up off the floor!), just know it'll take him 2 days to wake up again so he won't be very chatty until that time haha
Anduin had understood from the start that firing those arrows at the mass of roiling dark clouds in the sky would take a toll on him. He had done his best to conserve himself, taking small breaks for food and rest, recharging what energy he could with the aid of one of his companions' amulets as the priests had instructed to do.
He had known, logically, that his efforts were only making one small dent in a larger effort. That for that reason there was no need to overtax himself. But with each arrow fired into the sky, with each sucking pull on his spirit, his mana, his energy -- whatever the arrows were stealing from him -- so too grew within him a sense of urgency. A feeling of dread. A fear of that which Anduin could not put into words, but that he knew he could not allow to overtake these boats, filled with people he has grown to care for.
And so he does not heed the warning signs that are there, as the edges of his vision start to blacken and dim. The boat beneath his feet feels unsteady, and Anduin understands that it is not due to any rocking of the ocean below. Still, he reaches for one final arrow. These are not his people, but that does not make them any less worthy of his defense. He will not fail them now. He cannot.
Pulling his bowstring taught, Anduin releases his arrow high in the sky -- before he crumples to the deck like a puppet cut from its strings, the darkness swallowing him whole.
And in the darkness, Anduin dreams, if a dream it can be called, of the ocean. Of deep, murky, cold water. Everything still, so still around him. And silent. Anduin knows that there is more to existence than this darkness, this silence. And he yearns for it, that he might one day be born with a shape, and--
Anduin wakes to a dull throbbing in his temples and an ache in what feels like almost every part of himself. If he had yearned for a body, then a body he had most assuredly received. Groaning softly, he moves to raise a hand to his head, momentarily caught off-guard when he finds his arm restricted by... A blanket?
WHEN: During the Priest's Plot
WHERE: On the deck of the Pariah & below in the sleeping quarters
WHAT: Anduin gets a little carried away and knocks himself out for 2 days...
WARNINGS: None so far!
NOTES: You can encounter him on deck when he first passes out or when he's waking up (someone's gotta get him up off the floor!), just know it'll take him 2 days to wake up again so he won't be very chatty until that time haha
Anduin had understood from the start that firing those arrows at the mass of roiling dark clouds in the sky would take a toll on him. He had done his best to conserve himself, taking small breaks for food and rest, recharging what energy he could with the aid of one of his companions' amulets as the priests had instructed to do.
He had known, logically, that his efforts were only making one small dent in a larger effort. That for that reason there was no need to overtax himself. But with each arrow fired into the sky, with each sucking pull on his spirit, his mana, his energy -- whatever the arrows were stealing from him -- so too grew within him a sense of urgency. A feeling of dread. A fear of that which Anduin could not put into words, but that he knew he could not allow to overtake these boats, filled with people he has grown to care for.
And so he does not heed the warning signs that are there, as the edges of his vision start to blacken and dim. The boat beneath his feet feels unsteady, and Anduin understands that it is not due to any rocking of the ocean below. Still, he reaches for one final arrow. These are not his people, but that does not make them any less worthy of his defense. He will not fail them now. He cannot.
Pulling his bowstring taught, Anduin releases his arrow high in the sky -- before he crumples to the deck like a puppet cut from its strings, the darkness swallowing him whole.
And in the darkness, Anduin dreams, if a dream it can be called, of the ocean. Of deep, murky, cold water. Everything still, so still around him. And silent. Anduin knows that there is more to existence than this darkness, this silence. And he yearns for it, that he might one day be born with a shape, and--
Anduin wakes to a dull throbbing in his temples and an ache in what feels like almost every part of himself. If he had yearned for a body, then a body he had most assuredly received. Groaning softly, he moves to raise a hand to his head, momentarily caught off-guard when he finds his arm restricted by... A blanket?
no subject
In the end, she will be glad to not be good with archery. Her spells have to do with targets, sure, but for the most part of her life, as long as she's aimed her wand in the direction of her target, the spell has hit. Arrows, on the other hand - that's a whole other story.
She is nearby when it happens. Near enough to see the movement in the corner of her eyes, and turn and aim a cushioning charm at the deck under Anduin. When he collapses, it will be of a soft surface, even if it's not felt.
With a second's pause, she dashes forward, getting quickly to him. "Anduin," slips out, with a little more fear and desperation that expected. "No, no, come on, wake up - I am not having your voice join the ones in my head right now."
She brings her fingers to his pulse quickly, calming her breath just long enough to listen, focus - a pulse. "Oh good, thank god. Oh, you're going to get such a lecture when you wake up - you!" She notices there is something of a crowd, even if not quite. Some patriarch standing over the passed out form of Anduin, and hers kneeling at his side like she was ready to mourn. "Wei Wuxian - please - help."
no subject
He shakes his head as he kneels, sliding a hand under Anduin's shoulder, his other hand encircling Anduin's upper arm.
"Congratulations," he says, lips twitching up in a fairly mirthless grin. "You've completely depleted yourself, young man."
His gaze shifts to Hermione, not looking away.
"Miss Hermione, he'll be fine. Let's get him belowdecks, ah? There's room with Zenobius, he can rest there." A pause, and he reaches across to touch her arm with his fingertips. A serious gaze, dark but unharried and certain.
"Anduin knew there were limits. He chose to ignore them. Feel free to inform him how stupid that is once he wakes!"
Positively the cheeriest statement he makes, he smiles, and starts to haul Anduin's unconscious form upward, away from the deck. The two of them should be able to muscle him down the narrow stairs and into the equally narrow room with its narrow bunks, with narrow margins for error and damage. Nothing to it!
no subject
"I'll get the legs." She doubts she could carry him under the shoulders, if she nearly folded under Wrathion's weight back when - people of Azeroth sure come in stocky variety. She moves to grab Anduin's feet, casting a percursory glance over her shoulders for safety, and hoists - "Oof."
The first margin for error and damage: Hermione drops the legs, and they make a thunk sound. She meets Wei Wuxian's eyes with a mortified expression. "Let's...not tell him I did that."
no subject
"Did what?" He says instead, blinking slowly, innocently, while nodding his head to Anduin's shoulders. Where he is, at present. "All I can imagine is you lending me a hand with supporting his shoulders, then we can get to the ah... coaxing... or dragging to the ship's underbelly. Unless you want to nestle him in a lifeboat?"
Offering options, while also considering what a pain that would be, having done so with Lan Zhan for their sake when it became apparent that attempting to coexist in a hammock was going to suffocate them both in the night.
no subject
"Let's get him down, I don't want to worry about his boat being cut loose on some accident and him being flung to sea." She swallows a knot of dread, and glances down at the passed out priest.
"I'll have to tell Wrathion."
no subject
Mutually aware that Wrathion certainly would not, and he vaguely imagines, a dragon's temper is unlikely to be much better than his own brother's.
"Might want to lead with Anduin being physically fine, only exhausted. If you lead with him collapsing, it might not go over well."
Toward the stairs down... toward those stairs they carry him onward...!
no subject
"Not that I can't understand why. He's lucky we were there to see it, or I'd be doing much of the angry sweeping myself."
no subject
"Though if you need a broom, we can borrow one! The only one. It's in the galley."
Shuffling himself to the side so he can take the steps first, bracing one arm against the wall as they go downward.
"Here, I can support his weight, keep him from falling forward on me, ah?"
no subject
She shouldn't levitate him, she reasons with herself, not while they're on deck. A testy wave and she might fling him to sea herself. So no, old school. Analogue. It's fine.
"Well, either I'm undernourished or we can never judge Anduin for not looking after his physical wellbeing," she manages after a few effortful steps down. The boy's thicc.
no subject
"Lan Zhan's as bad, ah? All these people with so much muscle on their bodies. Though young Anduin carries that armour too, doesn't he?"
Another short laugh, then he takes a quick three steps back, practically dragging both Anduin and Hermione along with him. He does, however, manage not to fall in the process, which is nice, since he slipped to start the whole fast stair retreat off. He braces to stop all their combined momentum, bony form the stop-gap between collapse and embattlement.
Praise, for he does hold steady, because this hall is too narrow for him not to catch a heel against it and brace.