iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

But he cannot risk being so brazen, so crudely outed. It might earn him another lump or limp—such is the price of perfection, he supposes. He would know. “We need not stay together afterwards,” Dain amends quickly. “It would be only for the journey through to the other side, if you would have me.”

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

Three days. Three days has he been stranded here, facing a dilemma that all but mirrors her own. He could leave, if he wanted; some magical curse would do nothing to stop the Shadow Lord’s finest, perfect Ol. Why, the blasted thing may well have even been placed by the Master himself.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

“Perhaps you might be open to venturing together through these woods? I would be no burden,” he assures, passing a hand over the hilt of his dagger as indication. “I am capable enough on my own, but this forest’s curse…” He need not finish the statement. Plainly she knows it too.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

“Forgive me. I could not help but overhear,” he says, straightening. “We both, it seems, have been marooned here. I am Dain.” For the way he glances away at first, shy but sure, the coming question is obvious before he even says it. Clearly he is on the meeker side, but by no means helpless.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

Still it seems he appears as if out of nowhere, or as though he had always been there—unassuming, politely timid, with his eyes shadowed beneath dark bangs. He travels light it seems, with no more than a leather pack and dagger at his hip, a bow strapped to his back, fine boots, and a short cloak.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

“I fear that may be so,” a quiet voice beside her says. Bent partially to read the small stone tablet bearing the cautionary riddle for himself, a boy no older than his late teens stands. Certainly she would have heard his steps coming, no matter how naturally light they are for his slight frame.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

// I’m adding “angry spitting kitten” to his list of vibes.

010

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

What is miserable is the failure only to have choked the breath from my enemy with my own hands, disgusting and human as they pretend to be. That failure is my exile. This exile is my punishment. But it is not lonely. Such a human weakness, I do not possess.

020

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

… Indeed. Better to remain only palatable enough that you are not discovered by those who would seek to harm you for it, is it not? Better, I think, than losing yourself in so foolish a thing as human emotion.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

Will you? You do not desire at all to blend in with the others?

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

// Dain isn’t evil (anymore) so much as he’s just the embodiment of “I’m just a little guy! You wouldn’t hit a little guy, would you?”. Professional ragebaiter

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

Surely there is no need for such hostility? Your words struck a chord, I admit. That is all.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

Perish the thought! Perhaps your senses have begun to mislead you. An unfortunate consequence of age, I fear.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

(Definitely not mad because he can relate.)

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

“Rare are such things where I have travelled from. It would be considered a delicacy there, I think.”

000

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

of his own, that much is true.” A glance, then, maybe finally recognising her struggles. Happy to leave the demanding topic behind, Dain pulls a small, clean rag from the pack buckled to his belt, and holds it out for her to take. “This fruit you requested, is it quite valuable?” He ponders.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

“He…” Dain trails off, as though deeply considering. So captured by his own thoughts is he that he hardly notices the display. Or perhaps it is that he simply doesn’t care or mind. Truthfully, the conversation alone is posing enough of a challenge to keep him occupied. “He has faced many adversities

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

“I fear I do not,” Dain confesses shakily. “In this land I am but a — tourist.” That’s one way of putting it. Meekly, his other hand joins Danny’s wrist to keep himself steady. “Now, would you mind putting me down? I would be happy to — to find a way to make up for the scare, if only you would.”

000

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

and makes to fish something from his back pocket—opposite, at least, to the dagger on his hip. From it he produces a reasonable paper bill belonging to the local currency. “You dropped this. I meant only to return it!” Whether a lie or not, this is the act he has decided to go with.

000

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

It’s so unexpected, he’s only able to manage a strangled gasp. Instinctively, his hands are up in surrender, before the pressure on his throat prompts him to move at least one hand to the man’s wrist to better support himself. “I — I was, I admit,” he sputters urgently,

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

“Oh, a pity.” The voice comes from beside Angel, and as though he had been there all along, or perhaps just now walked up from behind, the boy is peering casually over the edge of the roof to watch the scene below. “But you must admit, it 𝘪𝘴 a little funny. Maybe not for that poor speck, though.”

000

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

“Dain,” he manages at last. There is some baffled caution in his politeness, and he makes no attempt to hide his bewildered stare. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

Dumbfounded, the boy who seems to blend in perfectly with the momentary dark, save for his pale complexion, stares for a moment. Instinctively having reached for an oil lantern at his feet where he sits at a small empty camp beneath a cliff overhang, the light returns too soon for it to even be lit.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

// Essentially: shapeshifter made by an ancient evil, for the purposes of evil, therefore heavily prejudiced in this world. There are different “grades” of Ols, and the one Dain is is considered perfected, but with the fatal flaw of being susceptible to real human emotion.

010

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

// Woke up and chose violence. I need a thread plot where someone’s seen a Wanted poster for this idiot and does something about it. or maybe realises he’s an Ol and understands the implications of that (scary evil enemy, probably)

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

Always the right general idea, but with one or two details out of place, the boy fits in as much as he stands out. The same uneasy principle, it seems, can be applied to his mannerisms. He has been tailing Rand from a distance for one minute longer than what might have been comfortable for the man.

000

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

@manusdraconis.bsky.social Late evening, and the sun is dipping low beneath the local skyline. Such modern settings the Ol struggles to fit into, having traded his cloak for a worn T-shirt layered over a long-sleeved one—and a dagger, holstered where a mobile phone might be on the average teen.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 28/03/2026

// I don’t watch many shows/movies so I have basically zero context for the characters I interact with a vast majority of the time, but honestly going in blind is just part of the fun of it for me. Everyone may as well be an OC to me so I get to learn about your guys at the same time as my guys do

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

Only then does he distract from the hard conversation, setting the spoon down in exchange for twisting the cap off his purchased honey. Intent, it seems, on using it for spoonfuls of this, rather than the watermelon she has split.

000

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

“My real parents are dead,” the boy admits quietly, unmoving. “Lost after a fire that engulfed the farm I grew up on. The man who took me in was — strict. He took great care to train and strengthen me for the hardships of the world to come. I could only oblige, and be grateful.”

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

“My circumstances were — different,” Dain bows his head, uncertain. He has to pick a lane, here, soon. Which “father” will he choose to reference for this facade? The story which comes most naturally, he supposes. The ugly, human one—the role he was “born” to fill.

100

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

then I might accompany you, if you are willing. But you need not worry about me.” He chews his lower lip, then, pensive and uncertain. “And when I am well again, let me accompany you to face your employer. Someone must explain to him what has happened here, and it may as well be me to do it.”

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

His part played flawlessly, the boy continues on, rubbing his upper arm in shaky indication. “I dare not impose upon you more, after what scare I have given you,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “But it would be best if — if these injuries are seen to, at the port. If we are to go the same way,

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

In response to the apology, the boy lifts his good hand as if to say it isn’t needed. “You are right to be wary,” he agrees easily, paying no mind to the scolding. “Bleeding, no, but I think — I think I might have twisted something,” he stammers, reluctant to admit the full extent of his pains.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

If even he can be. That, too, is part of his private game. Lost within the crowd of this festival town, he gazes up at one of the garish, noisy attractions, with a face that stands out no more than the rest gawping around him at the same. Too uninteresting to notice. Too unimportant, he concedes.

000

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

Today he walks brazenly out in the open among a throng of average people, wearing the same inconvenient face known by royalty and rebels. Some old habit he can’t quite shake, he prefers it, and the gambling thrill of what he or others might do, if he, a hated enemy of this land, is recognised.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

There is no consistency for an Ol. No rhyme or reason, even for one as rigid as he. One day he will choose to don the visage he had kept unbroken for years untold, even if it inconveniences or brings him danger. The next, he is unrecognisable even to himself—a man or child or tiny field mouse.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

Such a mousy thing 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 have trouble standing up for himself. “Dain,” he says at last. “I myself have had a — difficult upbringing. But I fear I may be out of practice, I confess. My… father, would be very displeased to see me shrink away from such a man.” Or see him continue to hesitate, surely.

000

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

Taking the spoon on reflex, there is a spark of anxiety or alarm in his dark eyes at her warning all the same. “No, never at all,” he placates hurriedly. “I was saying only that I admire your courage.” And no wonder, seeing as he seems reluctant to share in the melon, despite her clear invitation.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

But I can tell you that I have seen it happen. I thought him only a common bandit, until you came. Whatever is in your wagon is valuable. Valuable enough to put lives at risk. Even yours.”

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

but is equally set on not showing it. His good hand, even scratched from scrabbling for purchase, clutches to his opposite side. “Nothing I could say will make you believe there is not another bandit inside, waiting for you,” he admits weakly, aware of the circumstances. “Even if I go with you.

100

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

He nods his head toward the open doorway of the dark lighthouse, where the body still occupies a puddle of blood. “Check him, and you will see. Farther inside is — another body, the parcel’s owner.” He seems to struggle some with the pain of a twisted shoulder and ruined set of ribs,

100

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

and uses it only to help himself back up over the top, careful not to pull too hard or too abruptly. “I — I am sorry,” he gasps, once safely back onto flat grassy ground. “There was little time to think. In his belt was a knife — the same he had used on your recipient. You were surely next.”

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

It would be easy, so easy, to play the role of vermin Solas expects. To grab his wrist and yank him into the ravine with him, either as simple boyish payback for the stumble, or something much worse. But such is not his way. Instead he grasps the offered hand, his own skin cold and damp,

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

And, soaked and bruised, as if on reflex, he holds out his good hand, trembling either with pain or with cold, expecting or hoping to be hauled back up and onto flat ground.

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

his undamaged arm, the other stunned and weak against his battered side. The ravine is hardly any deeper than he is tall—with a little effort, he is able to just barely peer up over the side of it, standing on a bump on the inner wall.

100

𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

and a jagged rock jars his shoulder and side with little regard for comfort to break his fall. Of course. Very familiar, indeed. He could almost laugh, if it didn’t hurt so much. Sputtering, he shakes the sea water from his bangs as he pushes himself back up to unsteady feet with help from

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

A split second of blank terror passes over his pale face, dark eyes wide with realisation, the moment he feels the heel of his boot fail to find purchase. And then, much like the bandit he had felled, he is tumbling, slipping down into the ravine. The water below greets him with a muffled splash,

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𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔫. @to-nowhere.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

His thoughts are far away, and yet even now he cannot help but marvel at the familiar feeling of the situation at hand. The distraction of it, and his bid to quell the elf’s fury, is enough to encourage him to take one too many steps backward, unthinking, blind to the danger behind him.

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