Rogue on the run

He was lightning, volatile and unchallenged. He sits in wait, of what not even he knows. All he knows is he doesn't belong. Not here, or anywhere. He fights, because that's what he knows. His home is the worn leather of a sword grip. His heart is the glint of steel in the sun. He is a rouge, he lives by no rules, and that's just fine. [Independent Skyrim roleplay blog] [Sidebar image done by thevandanatwins]

[askcastian]

[I also was asked to do a photoshoot for a cosplay magazine this was cool.]

[askcastian]

[Im exhausted and in pain but I made a little girl super happy today. I was cosplaying Jack Frost and she seemed super nervous to come up and ask for a picture and when her parents finally convinced her and she asked me I responded excitedly with "WAIT! You can see me?!?" And she giggle screeched and shouted yes and I jumped up and yelled "That's so amazing! Thank you for believing!!!" And I swear she was about to cry.]

[askcastian]

[All right AX has started so I won’t be on much for the next 4 days or so. I’ll respond to asks and such, but everything is on mobile so I can’t reply to threads! Sorry!!]

[booksandbrimstone-blog]

askcastian replied to your post

“I can puff out my chest and look rather intimidating. Quite like a bird”

A weak laugh escaped her. “I think you look intimidating enough on your own, Cas.”

[askcastian]

"I don't know. I think the puffed up chest does quite a lot for me."

[askcastian]

[All right AX has started so I won't be on much for the next 4 days or so. I'll respond to asks and such, but everything is on mobile so I can't reply to threads! Sorry!!]

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

Dishonour among Thieves

askcastian

“Your money or your-”

It wasn’t until the dark gave way to the flickering orange of his lantern that Claudius recognised the armour of his prey. Brown leather, with a bandoleer and a thick hood. He lowered his blade as he mulled his options over - but his thinking was soon interrupted by the insistent growling of his stomach, a sharp pang of hunger that reminded him how he couldn’t afford to pick and choose his targets.

“Or your life!”

[askcastian]

Castian blinked at the man, eyebrows arched in a mixture of confusion and amusement. He was far enough away he felt safe unsheathing his blades, his two scimitars held loosely in his hands. 

“Are you quite sure you want to do this, my friend? I’m sure we can work something out. Man like you surely could miss out on one hit.” He said, observing his clothing choices. He was well off right now, having hit a rival bandit keep several days ago, his belly full and shoes new. 

[askcastian]

Korgul and Fi

“I don’t know Korgul, but I suddenly feel like I should.” 

[sigridqueenofdale]

Suggest two people for my muse to have a 
threesome with and my muse will tell you yes or no.

Oh this should be interesting…

[memesforu-blog]

my muse will answer anonymous questions for the next hour

[askcastian]

wlurred sords

Ey, e ya know, I’ll bet... uh.. 10 drinks if ya gan beat me in a fight. i bet I can kick yer ass... tail..? Where toes the tail start and the ass begin? Is it the same? 

[askcastian]

slurred words

“Ya, ya know fi? what if books were alive? And they just, talked to us. with words. And we kept them in these.. these..  mass prisons. Soving them all to’ether in a big shel’. Thad be fucked up.” 

[askcastian]

Send “slurred words” to hear my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.

[askcastian]

Cold winds || Fienelef

[booksandbrimstone-blog]

There was a moment in which she seemed to process this information. Slowly, she leaned in a little closer to him, clearly invested in the conversation at hand. her eyes moved over his face carefully one more.

“And yet you are still worthy and capable of redemption. Should anyone choose, they have the ability to change themselves for the better, or worse as some cases might be. You are more than that. You are someone with wit, someone who is willing and capable of standing up for others who will not stand up for themselves. You have honor, the only question is if you will become complacent with where you are in the world or seek something better.”

[askcastian]

He remained quiet as she spoke, shoulders slumping as he seemed to roll into himself uncomfortably. His grip on the cup tightened, knuckles paling with the pressure. 

“You find te best in people, dont you?” He smiled at her, rubbing a hand over his face uncomfortably, sighing. “I want to, damn I do, but its hard to just completely remake myself like that. What do I do when i don’t have food? “

[askcastian]

Cold winds || Fienelef

[booksandbrimstone-blog]

“I think you would be hard pressed to find anyone who is completely proud of everything they have done. You are an intelligent individual, Cas, you must realize that we all do whatever it takes to keep ourselves alive. I wonder, though, why you would be harsher on yourself than on others.”

[askcastian]

Castian stared at her, surprised for a moment before smiling, llooking down at the table, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. 

“If we’re being honest with each other, i’m a highwayman. I rob people, and then drink myself dumb with the money most nights. If I don’t im buying food, maybe an old blanket for the winter.” He said, seriously. His hands  clutched his drink tightly, despite it being empty and dry by now, 

[askcastian]

Greetings

[hardbittenhearts-deactivated201]

Oh, right. Picking an actual drink would be a sensible move. Perhaps he was more exhausted than he originally assumed. Laughing at himself, he pulled off his hat, sitting it on the counter as he looked at the bar. “I suppose a dark ale will be fine,” Grinning, his smile gently twisting to one side, he looked back to his new-found company, his eyes revealing curiosity as the man asked his questions. 

“A bit of it all, really,” He replied, placing his gloved hands out in front of him to lean on the counter with his elbows, “Mercantile is the heart of it, but we hire out the vessel and crew to whoever contracts it for whatever reason.” With a little shrug, he graciously welcomed the alcohol that eventually came his way, rolling the tankard in his hands idly before continuing to speak. “What about you, hm?”

[askcastian]

Castian smiled, nodding as he spoke, suprised to hear he lent out his ship like that. For half a seond he was uncomfortably reminded of Callion, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. 

“Me? Mercenary here and there, unemployed everywhere else.” He chuckled, waving a hand flippantly as he spoke. He was stretching the truth at best, but that man need not know that. “You off duty now, captain?” The way he said captain was all but appropriate.

[netepi-seht]

Nemurah didn’t appear to be listening. Whether this was the influence of drink or deliberate ignorance; it was un-discernible. 

“It’s alright. No need to be embarrassed.” He patted the mer’s arm, feigning sympathy.“You’re subpar but there’s always room for improvement.” 

[askcastian]

“I’m not the one who got ditched, my friend.” He smirked, chuckling in his hand quietly. “And I’m not sure you’re quite my type anyway.” He said flippantly, side eyeing the man.

That was a blatant lie, but he wouldn't know.

[askcastian]

Greetings

[tsabiira-blog]

She hums, shoots him a small smile. “Perhaps she will travel there then. Morrowind is her only other option, and with that volcano spewing ash everywhere, she is not too eager for a visit.”

Bii crunches a twig under her boot as she walks, then glances back up at her companion. “Are you thinking of moving on soon too, or do you plan to stay here? She cannot imagine it is easy for you. She has seen how Nords react to elves after what the Thalmor have done.” She hesitates, scrapes her boot along the ground, “She… apologises if that is rude of her to say.”

[askcastian]

“I don’t often make things easy for myself.” Castian chuckled, hands put in his pockets as they walk, laughing softly at her nervousness. “Its fine, love. You aren’t wrong. Its not often I get away in a tavern without hearing at least one slur. Hell, sometimes its not even against me and i’ll get into a fight.” He pulled up his sleeve a bit, showing a pale gold scar on his upper arm.

“Got this when someone decided to call a rather handsome khajiit man a fleabag.”