[ if his superior could see him now, he'd be so disappointed. drüskelle were a holy order, meant to embody the fjerdan's ideal of integrity and righteousness...
not, as the case may be, engaging in petty street fights with random strangers. and for the most ridiculous reasons, at that.
but matthias couldn't really help himself. he certainly hadn't meant to let things escalate as they had, but it was one thing after the other — a slammed finger against a door jamb, a spilled tea across his lap, misdirection from a stranger that led to an hour of travel wasted. the final straw to break the proverbial camel's back? the nostalgia of nina, a past love and a current hate, the enemy he grew to trust... only for her to betray him in the worst possible moment.
he has, to say the least, a lot of feelings when it comes to nina zenik. many of them violent. ]
Stop, [ he seethes one more time, the worst pushed out between grit teeth, his hand curled firmly around the other person's throat. he's rather large for a young man of eighteen — bulky and scarred from a year's worth of prison fights, yet none of that had chipped away at the precision and skill bred into him as fjerda's organizations of witchhunters.
the reason for all this? it could have been anything to remind him: long brown, wavy locks; bright green eyes; soft, pale skin; obscene curves; the smell of sweets; even just the way she'd smile like she knew how much it affected him; a teasing word or two; or the way she always somehow managed to get right under his skin in a way that he loved and hated.
whatever it was, he needed it to end, and now. ]
C Y O A
[ i'm also open to do any of the other options as well! feel free to PM me or comment here to work something out. c: ]
matthias helvar | six of crows
not, as the case may be, engaging in petty street fights with random strangers. and for the most ridiculous reasons, at that.
but matthias couldn't really help himself. he certainly hadn't meant to let things escalate as they had, but it was one thing after the other — a slammed finger against a door jamb, a spilled tea across his lap, misdirection from a stranger that led to an hour of travel wasted. the final straw to break the proverbial camel's back? the nostalgia of nina, a past love and a current hate, the enemy he grew to trust... only for her to betray him in the worst possible moment.
he has, to say the least, a lot of feelings when it comes to nina zenik. many of them violent. ]
Stop, [ he seethes one more time, the worst pushed out between grit teeth, his hand curled firmly around the other person's throat. he's rather large for a young man of eighteen — bulky and scarred from a year's worth of prison fights, yet none of that had chipped away at the precision and skill bred into him as fjerda's organizations of witchhunters.
the reason for all this? it could have been anything to remind him: long brown, wavy locks; bright green eyes; soft, pale skin; obscene curves; the smell of sweets; even just the way she'd smile like she knew how much it affected him; a teasing word or two; or the way she always somehow managed to get right under his skin in a way that he loved and hated.
whatever it was, he needed it to end, and now. ]
C Y O A