Lochiel is sitting outside, in an out-of-the-way area where he most likely won't be seen from the bar. Company, while not exactly unwelcome, is not what he's really in the mood for.

Certain people are exceptions, of course.

Something is wrong, has been wrong for a while, he's not sure how long. The blurred, distorted link in his mind shifts, bringing itself back into the forefront of his consciousness. For a long time it's been buried, barely thrumming a tiny spark of life across the link that is so fragile, so stretched, so thin. Now it resurfaces and there's ( Read more... )

Once again, Lochiel brings Thom forcibly into his room. Two runes quickly etched lock the door joining this room to Aidan's, and the door leading in.

His expression is very predatory.

[eta for violence]

( WEIRD things what amuse me )

He's sitting outside by the lake, thick cloak thrown over Cheysuli leathers and wing-patterned lir-gold, a path through the snow where he dragged a log over to the frozen lake so he can sit there and stare over the ice and try not to want to hurt something. The link is going nuts, chaotic emotions forcing their way through at random intervals, and ( Read more... )

Purgatory is quieter than he'd expected ( Read more... )

Lochiel is in his (her?) room. He hasn't been back downstairs since speaking with Delia of Eldorne yesterday. And is still very not happy about everything.

Though it's probably a mark of how much Lochiel does care about the way he looks that he's making sure he still looks good, even in Ilsa-form.

Lochiel is sitting on the bed in the new room, reading a book by candlelight. Candles that glow with orange fire, not the violet of his magic. He's stopped using his magic for trivial things long ago.

Once again, he's sitting cross-legged on his bed in the room Aidan insisted they share, to keep Asar-Suti at bay. The ring finger of his right hand, where his lifestone usually sits, is bandaged, and he is absently rolling the lifestone ring between his thumb and index finger, gazing at the pale blue opal intently ( Read more... )

He's been tending Brennan for the past day, not that there's much he can do for the Cheysuli. Brennan's condition hasn't changed, and Sleeta has been about the same - both are unconscious, and haven't stirred. He's doing as Peter said, keeping them warm, watching over them and whispering fragments of prayer to gods he never followed ( Read more... )