Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
03.Feb.12, 02:32 AM
So much happened so quickly that it was hard for Talian to keep up. He found himself trying awkwardly to explain his condition to Kerrin, whose disappointed expression earned a small, nervous laugh from the healer. "Well, you see...I have been in a little bit of slump since arriving here," he said. How did one tactfully explain that yes, he often wanted to act this way and felt inclined to, but he was normally too much of a shut in to actually do it? Or in this case, too timid to do it without drugs? His eye twitched as he tried to find the words, but he was interrupted when B'jin made his thunderous appearance.
Talian instinctively cringed. "B'jin!" he squeaked. He was happy to see the greenrider, of course, but also highly alarmed. B'jin looked so.. uncharacteristically disheveled. There seemed to be an aura of anger around the man. Now, Talian knew sharding well that B'jin had an angry side. He'd seen it himself. But for the time being, he could only assume that he was the cause.
"I-..." he stammered, watching as B'jin turned on Lymsleia. "I don't think s-she meant, I think she's just worried, I think-"
He cast a helpless glance to Lym as B'jin took hold of him. Talian relaxed visibly as he heard the greenrider's tone soften, but his face heated up when he heard Kerrin's comment. Had he heard that correctly? He squeezed B'jin's hands instinctively and slumped in his chair. "Oh...it's not like that," he whispered, the words catching in his throat even though he meant to project them loudly.
What had he taken? He let out a squeak and slumped forward, buryting his face in his hands without bothering to pull them away from B'jin. "I was depressed! I t-t-took some m-medicine. I thought it would help! B'jin, you're embarrassing me!" he said, his voice becoming unusually shrill near the end of the statement. He made himself as small as he could. "It's not what it looks like!" he proclaimed to everyone at the table, his voice frantically defensive, albeit muffled.
"B'jin! Please don't kill me!" he whimpered, leaning closer to the man, ever oblivious to how it made him look.
Talian instinctively cringed. "B'jin!" he squeaked. He was happy to see the greenrider, of course, but also highly alarmed. B'jin looked so.. uncharacteristically disheveled. There seemed to be an aura of anger around the man. Now, Talian knew sharding well that B'jin had an angry side. He'd seen it himself. But for the time being, he could only assume that he was the cause.
"I-..." he stammered, watching as B'jin turned on Lymsleia. "I don't think s-she meant, I think she's just worried, I think-"
He cast a helpless glance to Lym as B'jin took hold of him. Talian relaxed visibly as he heard the greenrider's tone soften, but his face heated up when he heard Kerrin's comment. Had he heard that correctly? He squeezed B'jin's hands instinctively and slumped in his chair. "Oh...it's not like that," he whispered, the words catching in his throat even though he meant to project them loudly.
What had he taken? He let out a squeak and slumped forward, buryting his face in his hands without bothering to pull them away from B'jin. "I was depressed! I t-t-took some m-medicine. I thought it would help! B'jin, you're embarrassing me!" he said, his voice becoming unusually shrill near the end of the statement. He made himself as small as he could. "It's not what it looks like!" he proclaimed to everyone at the table, his voice frantically defensive, albeit muffled.
"B'jin! Please don't kill me!" he whimpered, leaning closer to the man, ever oblivious to how it made him look.
