Reblog if your character has killed someone
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shark vs the universe

Andulka

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taylor price
noise dept.
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d e v o n

Kiana Khansmith
DEAR READER

pixel skylines
hello vonnie
Sade Olutola
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Kaledo Art
macklin celebrini has autism
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NASA

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@fatherofwarriors
Reblog if your character has killed someone
Reblog if your muse has scars.
Flynn “Look how handsome I am” Rider
what a cutie~ (fatherofwarriors - cuz we need Dál having to watch over the boys :D)
"Dah, Dah, Dah!" The Dwarfling squealed with joy, dashing as quickly as his legs would carry him- not very quickly, in fact, although he fell once- to the opening front door, bouncing excitedly as his father entered. "Dah, yer back eawly! Mum says f’at you awe watching Feewee and me today! Does f’at mean stowies, and f’a special stones, and pillow fights, and-and-" Kili paused, his brow furrowed as if in deep contemplation before finishing triumphantly, "-and fun, lots and lots of fun?"
"I'll do my very best", Dál answered, ruffling the boy's dark hair before taking off his boots and brushing the snow from his hair.
With a smile, he picked Kili up afterwards.
"Now, lad, what would you like to do, then?" he asked with a grin, "And where's your brother, hmm?"
Of course he knew that Fili, as Thorin's heir, would have more chores and excercises to do than his brother, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't have liked to spare the boy some of this every now and then. They were only children, after all.
Reblog if I'm allowed to send you in character asks even if we have never talked before.
Fili + character tropes
"You're Dwalin's nephew, right? The healer?" (fatherofwarriors)
Throas nodded slightly. “Yes, I am - Throas, at your service,” he introduced himself politely with a small bow of his head. “How can I be of help?”
"I’m Dál."
He gave a slightly nervous look.
"Well, I’m having a slight problem. I have no memory of the first half of my life."
Throas raised his brows in surprise. “Amnesia?” he clarified. “How long since?”
Dál gave a small smirk. "Oh, about eighty years from now. I don't even know why; I was told that I was attacked or had an accident, by those who found me."
Shadow & Light | Family thread
"Uh… long story."
Quickly, he lowered his hand again.
"I don’t know. I can’t remember living among dwarves, so I suppose you don’t miss what you don’t know."
He couldn’t help but give the boy a curious look.
"Familiar in a good way, I hope?"
Well - he was thankful for every tiny bit of information he could grasp, wasn’t he…
He sat down again, leaning his back against the stone wall.
"Why don’t you take a seat, hmm? It’ll take a while until you get out of here again, and I won’t bite."
Also, maybe he could manage to distract the boy from whatever could possibly happen to his family up there.
"Hm, it appears that I have a long time to hear it," Kili remarked, a rueful smile playing upon his lips. "Don’t remember living among…" His eyes widened as he trailed off, still somewhat amazed at the obvious gap in the other’s memories, sympathy rising at the thought of not remembering his own kin…what a terrible fate.
"Aye, it is in a good way…like I said, I cannot truly explain it. Mostly, all I can tell you is that you seem familiar." He shrugged his shoulders, walking towards the other before sinking onto the earthen floor.
"If you are willing, then I will gladly sit. Hmm…are you sure about that? Wouldn’t want to get bitten, after all," Kili teased halfheartedly, his gaze roving about the cell while his ears listened for any further sounds from Fili, or new sounds from either of his uncles.
"Mmh..."
He leaned the back of his head against the cold stone wall.
"What kind of traders are you, then?"
Dwarves usually didn't travel this much, did they? It had been a human caravan, after all, that had taken care of him, and there had been few wandering dwarves he had met over the course of the last few decades. And the boy sitting next to him rather looked like a ranger than a blacksmith. Well, maybe he was one of the caravan guards.
"Allow me to say, you don't look much like a blacksmith..."
Then again, there were few reasons he could think of why Thranduil would capture an entire trading caravan - if they passed through Mirkwood, surely they would be able to do some business here, wouldn't they?
"You're Dwalin's nephew, right? The healer?" (fatherofwarriors)
Throas nodded slightly. “Yes, I am - Throas, at your service,” he introduced himself politely with a small bow of his head. “How can I be of help?”
"I'm Dál."
He gave a slightly nervous look.
"Well, I'm having a slight problem. I have no memory of the first half of my life."
Since memories triggered by scent are the strongest...
Send my muse a scent and see how they’ll react to it.
Tell me what you think my character's Patronus would be.
Ten house points if you say why!
This is not just an rp blog.
This is an ask blog, as well. As in, come into my askbox, anon or not, and talk to my character. I am always open for conversation.
//young Dís
Shadow & Light | Family thread
"Mmh."
He gave the younger one a slightly worried look when he saw him try to break the iron bars.
Welcome back among dwarves, he said.
Dál gave a small smile.
"If I so desired, yes", he answered, unintentionally raising a hand to rub the small scar on his forehead that was all that had remained of his previous life, almost hidden beneath golden hair.
"I can remember for as long as eighty years, maybe", he answered, "That’s… complicated, you see?"
However, he frowned when Kili continued.
"The house of Durin? Are you on your way to the Iron Hills, then?"
At least that was the only seat of Durin’s house nearby, from what he knew, aside from the Lonely Mountain itself, of course.
"Yet…do you not desire to rejoin your kin?" Kili’s brow furrowed, the mere thought incomprehensible to one who valued his family about all else. His eyes flashed to the other’s forehead, concern further knitting his brow. "Have you encountered the spiders before? That scar…looks as if it must have been a great wound, at one point…" At once connecting the scar with the cause of such a gap in memory, the young Dwarf nodded, remarking,
"We would not have even met, if that is the case…strange, yet you seem slightly familiar…yet no matter. One day, perhaps…you could rejoin those who remember you."
A dark glower directed upward towards the ceiling crossed his face as Kili smoothly replied, “Aye, we were on our way to the Iron Hills…now I am not so sure.”
A sharp pang of guilt nagged him for the semi-truth, yet Thorin’s instruction had been clear- trust no one, save your kin.
"Uh... long story."
Quickly, he lowered his hand again.
"I don't know. I can't remember living among dwarves, so I suppose you don't miss what you don't know."
He couldn't help but give the boy a curious look.
"Familiar in a good way, I hope?"
Well - he was thankful for every tiny bit of information he could grasp, wasn't he...
He sat down again, leaning his back against the stone wall.
"Why don't you take a seat, hmm? It'll take a while until you get out of here again, and I won't bite."
Also, maybe he could manage to distract the boy from whatever could possibly happen to his family up there.
Father?
The words felt stuck in Dál’s throat as well, unsure of whether the boy was maybe making a joke. Then again, of course he couldn’t know about the full extend of his injury, could he? Unconsciously rubbing the scar on his forehead - all that was left of his previous life - he looked over Fili from head to toe.
Well - yes, there were vivid images, stored away somewhere in the back of his head. Laughter, a blond haired child, battles and fire, a young she-dwarf with dark and curly hair…
Daughter of Thrain?
Now, that was… interesting. Memories or not, he knew that name.
"You…"
He cleared his throat.
"You’ve certainly grown a little… Fili…" he managed to say with a small and everything but self-confident smile.
Never would he have made a joke of such a thing. Fíli adored his father growing up—he still did and always would. And what luck this would be, finding his father on the way to take back Erebor? He couldn’t wait to tell Kíli, Thorin—wait until he wrote home!
Except… his eyes draw up briefly to Dál’s hand as it reaches up and touches that scar. It chills his blood, not from appearance but in worry. And though he keeps his smile, the brightness, that eagerness in his eyes fades; doubt sneaking at his edges.
He doesn’t have to wonder if that healed injury affects him like Bifur’s does him because the lack of reaction tells the young blond what he needs to know. Dál didn’t come back because he was dead… he didn’t come back because he couldn’t remember. Or, he did just… not enough.
"Aye, you too." Fíli replies, trying to be the tinniest bit upbeat still. "I, ah. I’m travelin’ with uncle Thorin—do you remember him? Ma’s brother?" Dál would have known him longer, so maybe he could recall him better. "Older, dark hair. King Under the Mountain. …Broody."
Yes, there was something hidden in the corners of his mind.
Of course he knew the stories about Thorin, son of Thrain - but there was something else, the blurred image of a younger dwarf of maybe something around hundred years of age, curly dark hair and usually stern - it'd be better if you treated her well, for your own good -
"With blue eyes" he replied slowly, "Like your mothers... and like yours."
Still unsure, his eyes met the younger ones', only to find what he had just said.
Like yours.
"What about your brother's eyes?"
After all, he had never met him, or had he? There were no memories of a second child, but something of his wife's pregnancy, if he was not mistaken - but then again, of course, maybe his mind was playing tricks on him.
The boy seemed nervous, for all Dál could see - maybe he was far from home for the first time, or maybe he was lost - but then again, he didn’t seem to be a trader, and few dwarves ever travelled far from their homes, if possible. He gave the younger dwarf a reassuring smile before taking a look at the box he had handed to him.
Something moved eerily in the back of his head, but the image was gone before he could grasp it - and then again, he was used to these kinds of things happening from time to time. When he was hunting. When he was working on one of the stone talismans he sold at times. When he smelled fire and ash…
"Oh, no, no, don’t worry. I could fix it for you", he offered. "For a good price, too."
He gave the boy another look. There was something… about his eyes, maybe, that seemed…
"Don’t take this the wrong way" he continued hesitantly, "but have we met before? I am Dál, son of Idun."
The young blond is nervous and it’s not because he’s far from home—in fact he’s never felt closer than he feels now—and the smile he gives back is just the same, despite Dál’s kindly one. Dís always berated Thorin for going out and following the whispers of their father’s ‘sightings’, and yet here he was doing the same thing. But he didn’t stray too far from the town nor the company he was traveling with. Though none of that is why he’s not the confident young dwarf he usually is.
The man before him is what he recalls from dreams, the ghosting images of his father. He’s the face he remembers from his childhood and the little sketched portraits back in Ered Luin. If he’s nervous it’s because he’s so excited that this, albeit older, face could be the one that was lost to him decades ago. Understandably, he can’t believe his ears. Did he hear right? Dál, son of—?
It doesn’t seem to matter because he’s smiling, a rogue breath ragged as he nods insistently. “Yes,” Fíli tries to say without his voice quivering, failing as he continues: “We have—a lifetime ago.” He swallows again before clearing his throat. “I am Fíli, son of Dís, daughter of Thráin.” The smile is something he can’t fight, vivid blues alight with his bubbling anticipation.
"My father was lost to us, as well as to my brother Kíli, almost 80 years ago. He was Dál—" And Fíli needs to stop because can feel his throat tightening and threatening to embarrass him. "Son of Idun." I am your son, he thinks, the words loud and bright in his mind yet stuck there as he waits, apparently, for a reaction.
Father?
The words felt stuck in Dáls throat as well, unsure of whether the boy was maybe making a joke. Then again, of course he couldn't know about the full extend of his injury, could he? Unconsciously rubbing the scar on his forehead - all that was left of his previous life - he looked over Fili from head to toe.
Well - yes, there were vivid images, stored away somewhere in the back of his head. Laughter, a blond haired child, battles and fire, a young she-dwarf with dark and curly hair...
Daughter of Thrain?
Now, that was... interesting. Memories or not, he knew that name.
"You..."
He cleared his throat.
"You've certainly grown a little... Fili..." he managed to say with a small and everything but self-confident smile.