[cirkled]

#    𝖈𝖎𝖗𝐤𝖑𝖊𝖉    ,        low  activity  writing  blog  for  vestele,  an  elven  mage  from  the  circle  of  magi.    original  character , the hero of ferelden.   set  in  the  dragon  age  world.    based  on  its  general  lore  and  personal  headcanons.    warning  for  possible  triggering  content  and  nsfw.    general  rp  rules  apply. companions , @blightever .

𝖑𝖎𝖓𝐤𝖘 ,         headcanons.          aesthetic.        memes.        main.

[cirkled]

ykw i think she would love watermelons, she would carry four watermelons that are heavier than her just to munch on something

[theoptia]

Clarice Lispector, from The Passion According to G.H.

[snowstormweek]

Snowstorm week 💛 day 2!! ✨

by mincy_art on X

[cirkled]

@blightever .

[cirkled]

@anoffering & cullen , starter call !

‘  your  soldiers  are  improving.  ‘        light  steps  carry  her  to  stand  behind  the  commander,  pressing  her  face  into  his  back,  arms  snaking  around  his  waist    —    one  hand  resting  in  the  middle,  the  other  comfortably  nesting  atop  his  sword’s  hilt.    a  comfortable  position    ;    having  her  lover  in  a  tight  embrace,  sharing  body  heat  and  close  affection,    as  if  they  were  alone again  and  not  in  the  middle  of  a  makeshift  fight  ring.        ‘  perhaps  you  could  spare  some  time  and  teach  me?    i  haven't  held  a  sword  in  a  while,  and  you  have  been  a  great  warrior  since  i’ve  known  you.      only  if  you  aren't  busy,  cullen.  ‘

[cirkled]

@stuldr , starter call !

‘  you  seem  lost.  ‘        a  soft-spoken  word  comes  from  behind  the  corner,  a  glowing  hand  adding  another  source  of  light  to  the  lit  torches  hanging  on  a  stony  wall.    the  corridor  is  cold  despite  the  fire,  the  elf  feels  an  uncomfortable  shiver  running  down  her  spine    —    but  is  it  from  the  underground  path  or  the  eerie,  heavy  feeling  that  lingers  in  the  air?    an  old  magic,  perhaps,  vestele  couldn't  tell    ;    not  without  a  more  experienced  mage  by  her  side.        ‘  i  would  have  helped  you  find  a  way,  though  i  seem  to  be  in  a  similar  situation  as  you.    tell  me    —    you  are  not  an  angry  ghost  with  a  violent  mind,  are  you?  ‘

[cirkled]

about to pspsps at a dragon, i'll update you later

[cirkled]

[cirkled]

there's just something about men in armour and then seeing them more vulnerable in casual clothes

[lunamonchtuna]

— Makenzie Campbell, from a poem featured in "2 a.m. Thoughts," originally published in 2017 (via lunamonchtuna)

[cirkled]

@lary5trong , starter call !

‘  does  your  cane  hold  a  hidden  sword?  ‘        curiosity  got  the  better  of  her    —    larys,  a  peculiar  companion  so  full  of  secrets,  she  has  no  doubts  there’s  still  so  much  he’s  hiding  in  those  scheming  eyes.    yet,  vestele  held  out  trust  in  her  palms  some  moons  ago,  enjoying  the  feeling  of  familiarity  as  they  sat  by  a  burning  firepit  and  a  cauldron  brewing  another  batch  of  healing  potions.    nights  are  scary,  but  not as much  with  another  by  her  side.        ‘  or  poison?    or  both?    if  not,  perhaps  we  could  upgrade  it  for  you.    it  cannot  be  too  hard.  ‘

[cirkled]

@blightever , starter call !

‘  i  am  not  much  of  a  dancer,  ‘        panicked,  hushed  voice  carries  over  the  click-clacking  of  heeled  shoes  against  the  polished  stone,  their  owners  rhythmically  dancing  to  the  empress’  choice  of  music.    all  very  noble  and  so  strange  in  a  way  the  elf  couldn't  put  her  finger  on.    she  holds  onto  godwin’s  arm  tight,  following  after  him  as  she’s  always  done    —    one  step  behind,  hiding  in  the  shadows  of  his  glory  and  power.        ‘  you  are  going  to  embarrass  yourself  and  everyone  will  speak  of  it  for  eons.  ‘

[cirkled]

what if a teeny tiny short starter call.

[cirkled]

vestele  of  the  magi    ,            edit.

[the-fade]

[vilifyme]

it's times like this when he misses antiva most. the stink of the ocean. sun-kissed skin, sparkling with saltwater spray, his hair a mess of damp waves that stick about in unruly twists. it isn't rialto bay, but.. it would do. the company, however, left some things to be desired, of course. finicky of where their armor lay, grousing on about the coarseness of sand and murky depths. where one body leaves to submerge into the brine, another stays behind, content under a leaning sylvan, its branches in wide, arched weeps.

" oh ? " ears twitch, thin brows at a curious rise, " are we no fan of being sticky and wet, my dear warden ? " a light tone, zevran needles with a heavy-lidded gaze and the sort of slow approach that suggested he'd not too easily be shaken.

shifting pebbles, the odd rock to be perched upon, when idled his is a wondering stoop, " you know, in my country, there is a name for the beautiful women who sit beside the coastline but never dip their toes. " dropped from vestele's face to the book in hand, bright eyes flash a knowing gleam that warrants a deepened slant to an already broad grin, " we call them sea thrifts. blossoming and pink-cheeked.. always a wonderful sight when the sun is high and heavy. "

[cirkled]

were  her  reassurances  that  she  is,  indeed,  quite  fine  where  she  is  not  good  enough  to  satisfy  his  curiosity?    she  ponders  momentarily  whether  being  honest  about  her  fear  of  water  would  cause  a  domino  effect,  ending  with  her  dripping  wet  and  choking  and possibly even  drowning.    always  jumping  to  the  worst-case  scenario,  vestele  is  still  unsure  of  how  other  people  behave  out  in  the  open  and  always  opts  to  stay  behind,  not  drawing  any  attention  to  herself.        ‘  no,  me  and  whatever  may  be  hiding  in  its  depths  are  no  friends.    i  don't  want  to  get  bitten  by  an  angry  fish  or  swallowed  by    …    i  don't  know,  a  gigantic  octopus.  ‘        the  mage  replies  at  last,  scrunching  her  nose  at  his  sudden  approach.

‘  a  wonderful  sight  you  say,  and  yet  the  nickname  sounds  like  an  insult.  ‘        still,  rather  than  imagining  beautiful  women  he  mentions,  vestele  imagines  the  flowers    —    she’d  seen  them  in  her  herbal  book    ;    long  stems  and  petals  in  various  shades  of  pink,  growing  in  clumps  and  adding  a  lovely  touch  to  earthy  tones  that  often  surround  them. perhaps she might go look for them later, turn them into another dried addition of her growing collection.       ‘  you  must  find  them  boring.    beautiful,  yes,  but  boring  when  you  realise  they  don't  want  to  change  and  come  closer  to  the  waves.  ‘

her  fingers  idly  trace  the  bronze  letters  of  her  book,  a  soothing  motion  of  sorts.        ‘  what  else  do  you  see  at  the  beach  in  your  country?    a  lot  of  seagulls?  ‘

[cirkled]

AND ALSO i think sometimes she genuinely feels unlucky with the hand she was dealt. born as an elven female (slave, servant, generally lesser than humans) + mage (monster, should be locked up or made tranquil) + grey warden (will turn into a zombie????). she just wanted to read her books in peace

[cirkled]

sorry i keep yapping and not writing but fresh out of the circle vestele being so oblivious to the outside world is so fun to me but DON’T let her make decisions that impact life