OPEN RP PART II: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

[avali]

OPEN RP POST

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-Deposit prompt and/ or character.         

-Receive some pretty bad RP in return??

-Threads leading to smut is fine, because hey, sometimes it happens. 




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Muselist

Open RP (smutty version)

 

Comments

[sanctificare]

[The comparison seems to catch her by surprise. She can't say it's one she's really heard before - though before the Inquisition, she hadn't exactly been in the company of too many Dalish elves. Certainly not enough to be conversational.]

Well. I suppose so. [She seems reluctant to give him the point, though even she's not entirely sure why. It just seems-- odd. Not as strange as hearing stories about a Herald touched by Andraste herself and coming to Skyhold to find the man was-- well, she hadn't been expecting an elf. The mage part she'd heard, one of many things shed been instructed to keep a close eye on while she wintered at the keep, but-- Sometimes she finds herself looking at him when she's certain no one else is watching, trying to puzzle it out. She shouldn't question divine providence but it seems like an exceedingly bizarre pick.

Not that the Inquisitor has been anything but capable. But that almost is just as strange, given the circumstances.]

I don't know how it is with your people, but mine spend quite a lot of time squabbling at one another.

[nuvenin]

Oh that's the part we're best at. [Bizarre is probably the most accurate word for it; he wasn't meant for this. Despite Cassandra's conviction and Leliana's reassurances his life had been set and measured well before the mark ever found his palm: being his clan's First meant human politics, dwarven relations, qunari-- everything is all foreign territory. Dangerous territory if what he's seen is to be believed.

Weeks spent holding his breath thinking he'd be buckled in irons the moment Cassandra's shield lowered from his side, but she'd stayed. They'd all stayed. And for the most part it's shifted him away from defensiveness into more trusting territory. They're not his people, but they are his, he supposes.

Maren included.]

You haven't seen chaos till you've seen a handful of undisputedly wise elders argue over whether or not Enduil's wreath traditionally includes dawn lotus or crystal grace.

[sanctificare]

[Which has her huffing out a low laugh, short and dangling as she uncurls her fingers from the edges of the cloak. She reaches out, drawing the arrow back from across her knee. When Maren starts winding the thread this time, it's passive and mild - less stubborn focus which seems to help.]

Some things are universal, I suppose.

[nuvenin]

[And for a few seconds he leaves a mutual laugh as the only conversation between them, stifling it with the slow press of his lips, shifting back down towards his previous seat and crossing his ankles over one another. Stretched legs, curled toes.] Too many things are. But I'm glad for it, more often than not.

[Watching her is nice, at least. Better this time. Reminds him of old, long forgotten memories.] Writing a love letter to Sera?

[sanctificare]

[That? Makes her snort. It's all but a real, proper bark of laughter as she drops her attention to the arrow pinched between two fingers, studiously winding the thread over and over--]

Hardly. She'd have to admit I make mine better first.

[Debatable at best. Sera was natural with a bow where at her most basic, Maren was all technicalities wrapped in automated determination. Different schools, same weapon and their was no denying that their bolts largrly both flew true. But her arrows are rather pretty--]

But if you've something you'd like me to deliver on your behald, I could probably manage to play messenger once or twice.

[Her tone is neutral enough, though the sidelong glance she throws in his direction betrays the slyness underlying it. Two maximum, ser. Which, by her estimation and how he leans across any set of likely shoulders, wouldn't exactly make much of a dent in his prospective stack of love letters.]