A Life Reclaimed

Skyrim/ Elder Scrolls RP Blog for Anovis Llando, fromally of the Cult of Miraak, attempting to pick up the pieces of his life. Sideblog to @haleth-dovahkiin; mun&muse are 21+

[tesrpc]

[gvildmastcr]

tesrpc‌:

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[foulserpent]

headcanon that i have accepted (based on i think a joke in someones art that might have just been a character thing), is that most dunmer on vvardenfell refer to mammal animal’s young as ‘larvae’, ‘grubs’, etc. just how it translates. since most of the fauna that is relied upon in daily life (aside from guar) is arthropods, the verbage used for kwama, silt strider, netch young etc is the go-to for “its a baby animal (not a person) but its not a bug”

like youll hear folks going like “damned rats laid their damn larvae under the baskets again”

[corvidaesuggestion]

God just,,,, fuckin mushrooms man, y’know?? Just fuckignnn amazing little,,,,,,,, fung i,.,,..,,, tiny bitches with hats..,,……,,,,,,., goddamn epic

[firsnotfurs]

❛ it’s not just a game ! ❜ (anovisxllando)

dangerous sentence prompts ;; accepting@anovisxllando

“That’s enough from you,” the Treasurer barks in turn, glancing over his shoulder, cloaked in suspicion, as their raised voices echoed throughout the cavernous twists & turns of the rat way ; feeling a prick of dread in how the noise reverberated against the ribs of the city,  “now isn’t the time.”  

He lashes out, scowling as he takes a firm hold of the Dunmer’s bicep & fluidly drags him through a side door.  Nudging the wood with an irritable kick, Delvin allows it to creak shut behind them.  Presenting them with considerable privacy as Delvin continued to drag Anovis through the sewer works to a more suitable storage room.  “Do you hear this ?  This conversation we’re havin’ right ‘ere ?”  he mutters to the mer in great distaste & greater discomfort, motioning wildly with his free hand, “I don’t want to be havin’ it.  Not right now & not with you.”

[anovisxllando]

It was only then that he realized there were likely eyes on their conversation-- eyes the Dunmer did not want trained on him. But to be dragged into a closet, even by one of the few friends he had made in the Guild was a humiliation he could hardly bear. Once they were safely in the storage room, Anovis illuminated the space with a small magelight and sneered at the Breton. “Drag me around like that, s’wit, and you’ll get a fireball up your arse.” His posture relaxed, and his frown became more pained. The ties that bound the Guild-- the thin code of honor by which they all abode, the friendships, the coin-- were beginning to run dry very quickly. Still, Anovis was raised with honor, and he hadn’t wanted to cause the treasurer more grief; but he could not sit idly by and watch the Guild spiral toward Oblivion with its Guild Master. 

“Delvin,” he said, his voice more gentle, “You know I wouldn’t say these things without just cause, but I believe Ara is in danger; my daughter, too, given how they’ve taken to traveling together when Haleth isn’t at the College.” He shook his head with a huff. “You really do not feel the Daedric magic? I can tell you, it’s not one of the Good Daedra, and I don’t want to see Mercer drag this organization to Oblivion in an orecart!” 

[dalamusrex]

“at least let me clean the wound!” (From Anovis)

It is fine! he wanted to say. But trying to explain to Anovis why he was not worried about infection setting in.. would have been difficult.

The wound was in a difficult spot to reach on his back. Dalamus was not even sure he had gotten all of the arrow out of it. Thank the gods it had not been silver.

“I could just bathe,” he grumbled mildly, but allowed Anovis to tend to the wound to his satisfaction.

[anovisxllando]

The older Dunmer huffed. “The only places to bathe around here in a lake,” he said, rolling his eyes, “and that would only increase the likelihood of infection. Besides, you can’t tell me you want fish waste in your wound. The water around here is positively filthy.” 

Without another word, Anovis pulled off the leather cuirass given by the Guild and pulled a wide strip of cloth from the shirt underneath-- thank the ancestors he’d done laundry only a few days before-- and formed it into a loose ball. He uncorked a healing potion and gently poured the viscious liquid onto his fellow thief’s wound. “Here,” he said, binding a small square of cloth with the longer strip, “that ought to hold until you can get to the Temple.” He gave Dalamus an apologetic grimace. “I suppose we ought to leave this part out of our report to the Guildmaster, hmm?” 

[dalamusrex]

Anovis coughed into a loose fist to get the other thief’s attention. “I hope you can put these to good use,” he said, holding out a neatly wrapped paper package containing a pair of leather boots, the soft hum of magicka radiating from them. “They have a strong muffling enchantment. Happy Saturalia, Dalamus.”

Dalamus turned toward the sound, surprised to see Anovis offering him a gift. Though wary of the magical humming, he knew Anovis would not give him anything harmful. Right? He had assuaged some of Dalamus’ fears with the enchanted ring, after all. He felt he understood magic just a tiny bit more. A tiny bit.

He took the gift gingerly. Had Anovis enchanted them, himself? 

“Thank you, Anovis,” he said with awe. “I am certain they will be useful. And I have something–” Dalamus pulled a book out of his bag, a journal, and offered it to Anovis while holding his own gift in the other arm. 

“Happy Saturalia, Anovis. You probably already have plenty, and I cannot say that I bound it myself.. but…”

[mount-kilkreath-deactivated2020]

Brynjolf, upon first meeting the Dragonborn (4E 201, colourized)

[ssatxr-archive]

FLUSTER👏MY👏MUSE👏👏

Do everything in your power, hug them, compliment them, flirt with them. Anything goes!

[anovisxllando]

Nirilhe grimaces, but he still hands Anovis a small package. He still felt strange about being nice to him, but it was the holidays. He kind of had to, didn't he? So he'd tried his best to give the Dunmer a gift that provided use rather than a sense of thoughtfulness. It was a warm, soft scarf. "Happy New Life." he mumbles.

Anovis looked at the package with narrowed eyes, taking it hesitantly and prodding it. True, the snow elf had been less hostile in the most recent months, but that didn’t mean he had to trust the little fetcher. The package seemed perfectly normal, and his shoulders relaxed as he untied the simple string holding it together. His eyes widened as a scarf unfolded in his hands. He held it closer to examine the color of the woven pattern, running his fingers over the gentle ridges of weft and weave. He felt a sudden, sinking guilt for expecting the worst of the smaller mer. 

His ears flicked back as a small but genuine smile pulled at a corner of his mouth. “Thank you, Nirilhe,” he said. “This was... very thoughtful. I’m sorry I don’t have a gift for you in return, but happy Saturalia nonetheless.” 

[anovisxllando]

✧

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[nintori]

[luckydxy]

@anovisxllando

[dovzeymahhe]

                                                   D O V Z E Y M A H H E                                                  D O V H O K O R O N N E

ALDUIN  &  PAARTHURNAX  RP  /  AESTHETIC  /  MUSING  BLOG.  NOW  WITH  FFXIV  VERSES  !  ESTABLISHED : 7&9 / 2017.  REBOOTED : 1 / 2020.  WRITTEN  BY  BRIIRIS.

Graphic by: @dovwahlaan / @sheharrowed

[oriinthel]

TES RP Blog ; Non-Dovahkiin , Mun/Muse are 21+ , follows back from @Oriinthel

Hey guys! I don’t really have a proper promo here, but I wanted to let y’all know I have a new blog! Go check her out if you wanna interact with an almost thousand year old psijic lady!

(there she be)

[fightasone]

Anonymously send me your favorite detail about how I play my character.

I will publish and respond OOC.

[luckydxy]

@anovisxllando ;; closed starter

Solace in a cozy corner, Ara couldn’t have asked for more in this moment.  She rests with her hair down & a lazy smile upon her lips ; looking ready to nap with her book still in hand.  Anovis’s presence is a welcome creature comfort in the otherwise empty lodging as she loses herself on the page.  Pausing, she notices him stir at her side.  Blinking over, Ara spots the mer scooping up her bow from where it rested against the tableside.  Losing interest in her book all of a sudden, Ara’s giggles echo – watching Anovis inspect the weapon.  

“I need to freshen the paint,” the rustic aesthetic of worn paint, dulled with time & loving use, was charming — but Ara cringed, acknowledging brighter days & brighter pigment, “I can’t find the paints I usually use — Delvin promised he’d keep it on his list of special requests.  My ivy will have to look wilty until then.”

[anovisxllando]

The Flagon felt a cozy alternative to the winter sleet storms of the Rift in winter, and since taking a bad step on a job in the previous few days— just more evidence of a curse, Delvin claimed— the Dunmer didn’t see himself straying far from the comfort of his home and the Cistern for several days at least. He idly flipped through one of the books the Guild kept on hand before something caught his attention: a gentle hum of magicka radiated from the younger thief’s bow, a quality he hadn’t noticed before, or perhaps not been in the right mental state to observe. 

With a soft groan, he bent over to study the bow, bringing it closer to the already dim light of the Flagon. He hummed in response to her words, nodding as he rubbed the well-worn paint. Yes, there was something special about this bow. His brow furrowed as his gaze became scrutinizing. “This thing really would be more effective if you charged it, as well.” He said, looking over to her, canting his head. I would add a soul gem or two to that list of requests. Then this old bow would be impressive indeed.”

[fabelyn]

I’m a sucker for characters who see troubled kids in dangerous situations and basically go “they need parents, guess that’s me now”

[anovisxllando]

@anticipations

Frost-bitten air bit at the old Ashkhan’s ears and nose as he pulled open the door to the Vilemyr inn— the only one in Iverstead, if the locals were telling the truth. Hasselk grumbled a muttered thanks as one of the woodsmen employed at the mill pushed it open for him. He approached the bar, eying a greasy looking, red-headed man and a Bosmer who looked a bit too happy for his liking before settling at the counter. He cleared his throat, fingers tapping impatiently in the bar as the innkeeper turned to him, eyeing him head-to-toe and raising a dark brow.

“You must be one of those Dark Elves— the ones that live out in the wild... what’re they called? Never mind. What can I get you?”

The tips of Hasselk’s ears flushed violet in embarrassment, his head dipping forward slightly “Shein,” he said quickly, his voice raspy from centuries of breathing Vvardenfell’s ashy air, the Grazekand’s distinct accent coloring his words. He inspected the inn’s stocks; there were none of the old, familiar clay bottles, and he sighed. “Ale.” He rested his chin on his fist and looked down to the map his granddaughter had drawn him. Whatever she was learning at that monastery at the top of a mountain that she couldn’t learn at any old temple, she couldn’t imagine, but he would need directions on how to get there; and, to his disappointment, no one seemed to want to help.