molotov alchemy @latailwe-blog - Tumblr Blog

Fundraiser date meme

Date Fee: A bunch of whiskey she’ll never actually drink. Customer Comments: “She lit herself on fire and started screaming. I’ve been in a dragon attack, and I’ve never been so afraid.”

tagged by: Stolen tagging: @aicendor Uhhhh I don’t remember who I’m missing but u~

nallron‌:

As Nallron trudged along the well-worm path towards Dawnstar, a hand firmly on the hilt of his short sword at all times, he made a concerted effort to take in and savour his surroundings. Skyrim was nowhere near as beautiful as the Alinor countryside, where he used to spend many an hour simply walking in the dazzling sunlight of the summer months, but there was a certain charm to its lands once one adjusted to the ever-encapsulating cold.

If he were being completely honest, Nallron was mostly just glad to be away from the Embassy, even for only a short time. Things had been hectic of late. A little too hectic for him. So he had scheduled himself two weeks leave with only minor guilt, intending to find some peace and quiet on the road.

His first stop would be Dawnstar, a city he had not yet visited in all his time in Skyrim. He knew little about the place. The only real reason he had for making it his destination for the day was pure curiosity.

As he drew closer to the bridge Nallron spotted the other Altmer, his eyes drawn to her almost immediately. There were very few of his kind in Skyrim, particularly those who were not connected in some way to the Thalmor - something he assumed of the woman from the fact that she looked entirely unfamiliar.

The soldier opened his mouth to greet her as he approached, but was beaten to it by her own curious greeting.

“…A what?” Nallron came to a stop and furrowed his eyebrows at the stranger. “No. No, I haven’t…”

Pausing to look her up and down once more, his gaze became gradually more wary of her before he finally spoke again. “So, you’re out here in the middle of nowhere to look at… some creature or whatever it was you said? …I see”

Except he didn’t see. What appeal was there to wading through very likely icy cold waters to look at some insignificant creature that liked to live there? Nallron shook his head incredulously without even realising.

“It’s a bird. You do a big year, you try and record as many different bird species as possible.” When her feet were dry and relatively warm, she stuffed them back into her wool socks and then into her shoes. She stood and moved over to the other mer.

“I’m Latailwe.” She held out her hand. “I was hoping there were swallows under the bridge, but I don’t think they actually come up this far north. They’re little birds that look like flying cigars. I figured I ought to do my big year in skyrim before the war, the actual war, breaks out enforce.”

It helped to be overzealous in her cover, she found, so she pulled out a small book filled with pictures of different birds. Several of the birds had dates and locations written by them. In reality those dates and locations corresponded to different sabotage targets, but to anyone, even another birder, it was just a life list.

“See this?” She pointed to some strange faced bird. “This is a Chuck-Will’s-Widow. It looks a lot like a whip-poor-will but I spotted one down in the Rift.”

doubleyew-deactivated20191031

whatever *becomes an enemy of the state*

desperate-housewives

12 + 13

12 - What’s the best memory of your father?

My dad’s an old dunmer man. He passed away a few centuries ago but… before he did that, he named me to his family. Some big dunmeri thing with ancestors and what not. He didn’t want to name me as an infant since he wanted me to have a say. Of course I wanted to be a part of my dad’s family. I’ve got like. Three moms. Mama, Papa’s wife and my Dunmom, Papa, and Mom set me in front of the waiting door and called my grandparents. Well the dead dunmeri ones. They named me, had me say my name, got my cheeks pinched by ghosts, and then they faded away. Papa was so pleased he let me have some of his matze… which was vile, but it was a big to do. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy before.

I was… twelve.

13 - What’s the worst memory of your father?

The Red Year.

Papa died that year. He was headed towards Vivec when Baar Dau fell. He barely made it home. He was sick, dying, and barely clinging to life. Three horrible days. Then we put his ashes in an urn, and set the urn by the waiting door. His family tomb was back in Vvardenfell. We still haven’t gotten him home…

#Anonymous

feed-your-inbox

Father’s Day Asks

Send a number and ask my muse about their father.

1 - Were you close to your father? 2 - What was your father’s name? 3 - What was your father like in general? 4 - Would you say your father was a good parent? 5 - How did your father treat your mother? 6 - What was your father’s appearance like? 7 - What features did you inherit from your biological father? 8 - Was the father you grew up with your biological one or someone that became a father figure? 9 - What was an important lesson your father taught you? 10 - Is your father still around? 11 - Do you visit your father? How often? 12 - What’s the best memory of your father? 13 - What’s the worst memory of your father? 14 - Do you want to follow in your father’s footsteps? 15 - Do you want to parent like your father parented you?

** + Anything else you can think of.

alwaysshewrites

Powers: Pyrokinesis

@nallron

There weren’t many bridges between Solitude and Dawnstar, but Latailwe was well aware of the Legion’s intention to push towards the territory to better protect the primary holding. She tied a jug of alchemist’s fire to the underside of the bridge’s northern support beam. She was knee deep in water, but no one would think to look for sabotage. Not until after the bridge collapsed.

Package secure, she hopped to the other beam to ensure the bridge’s destruction. All it would take was to light the fuse and run. And to do so, she wrapped a thick waxed rope around each bomb for the next saboteur to find. Satisfied, she trudged out of the freezing water to dry her feet and change her shoes.

The woman looked older than youth but younger than middle age. If she were a human rather than an altmer, she would have been considered in her thirties. Her red hair coiled down her back in a fishtail braid in a way reminiscent of a lazy snake. With a huff into her hands, she cast a warming spell and held it over her freezing and numb feet. She froze for the half second it heard her to parse a crunch behind her as footsteps, then whipped her head around.

A mer? Her brows knitted.

“You ever hear a whip-poor-will?” She ran her fingers over her toes as she waited for a response. Dissatisfied with whatever he gave her, she quickly added, “I hear they’re in this area. I’m doin’ my ‘Big Year.’”

#OK TAKE TWO #this sits better with me

nallron‌:

Nallron eyed her with a suspicious look amongst green-gold eyes. Her words… did not seem entirely truthful. Perhaps he had been a little quick to let his guard down.

“Daedra…?” He echoed softly, barely hearing the rest of what she said. If there was one thing the Dominion soldier wanted nothing to do with, it was those fucking demonic creatures. “I-it’s over, you say? …Good.” With a shake of his head and a sniff, he tried to regain his composure. Showing weakness in front of a complete stranger was not a smart move.

“I am travelling…” Nallron gave Lanwa another wary look. “I’m actually based in Haafingar, but I like to travel and see other shit when I can. Staying in one place isn’t really my thing.”

She cocked an eyebrow at his blatant disbelief.

“I... Oh my gods... you don’t actually believe me, do you? Come on man, you’re a mer, I’m a mer,” she reached out to pat Nallron’s chest with the back of her hand. “And there was a stormcloak patrol. I smell like fuckin’ kindlepitch. Sweet Mara...”

She started laughing, a hearty chesty laugh.

“Yes, the daedric shit is finished. Evidently some local priest went in there and cleared it out. And you live in Haafingar?” She began to stretch her arms over her head, pulling them to tug on her shoulders. Her cloak lifted up hinting at a number of alchemy bottles and ingredients stuffed within inner pockets. “Yeah that makes sense. With the Legion there and all. I don’t understand how the border between Skyrim and Cyrodiil is primarily Stormcloak.”

With a shrug, she dropped her arms.

Yeah I have a staff.

Yeah I’m a mage.

I mostly just hit people with it tho.

Latailwe’s “family tree” or the progression of a RP character through different incarnations.

nallron‌:

An Altmer… interesting. His kind were few and far between in Skyim, particularly outside of the Thalmor. His interest piqued he allowed himself to let his guard down ever so slightly.

“Nallron.” Hesitantly, he took the offered hand and shook it. “I’m sure I’ve seen just as bad, Lanwa.” He made a conscious effort to repeat her name so that he did not awkwardly forget five minutes later.

Studying her with a furrowed brow and obvious curiosity, Nallron decided to ask her outright. “Not so many of our kind live here in Skyrim,” There was a deliberate disdain to his tone as he said the name. “May I ask why you’re here in this Nord wasteland? Or at least where you are headed right now?”

“That’s unfortunate. For you. The having seen worse, I mean. It was a fairly grisly accident. A terrible shame. Hopefully no survivors. ... I mean that as in having to live with that would be terrible, of course.”

Her tone did little to conceal her blatant lie.

“But I was headed to Solitude. I heard there had been a daedric mishap in Dawnstar, and I wanted to poke my nose where it didn’t belong. It’d already been handled by the time I got there. Almost a shame. I always wondered what Vaermina thought of the nonsensical dreams I’ve always been prone to. You know the ones that have no real... what’s the word... Things don’t happen in order, and nothing makes sense, but when you’re dreaming it makes perfect sense?”

She stomped her feet to shake blood back into them.

“What are you doing out here?”

nallron‌:

Nallron had never been to Dawnstar before. It probably wasn’t a place many other Dominion soldiers, if any at all, would ever willingly visit, particularly with its Jarl being so fiercely Stormcloak. But Nallron was both curious and bored of all the cities he regularly visited. And there was nothing like a heightened sense of risk to combat boredom.

He’d taken precautions of course. It would have been a fool’s move to go wearing his regulation black elven armour, but even more foolish to go entirely unprotected and so he wore a more ambiguous leather armour with an iron plated chest piece. He travelled light with only a small knapsack and just enough gold on his person to get himself a bed and a drink or two.

So far the journey had been uneventful. The most dangerous thing he had encountered was a rabid wolf which he had put down with ease. He was beginning to almost wish for something a little more interesting to happen. Almost.

The smell of burning flesh hit him long before there was anything to really see. It made him gag. What in Oblivion had gone on?

Before Nallron could find out for himself he noticed a hooded figure walking towards him. Out of habit he kept a firm hand on the hilt of his sword as they approached. When they finally crossed paths he almost laughed at their warning.

“Yeah, I had noticed the faint fragrance of gently roasting flesh in the air. Hell of an ‘accident’ to produce such a stench.” His eyes were trained on the individual, waiting for them to ambush him or do something equally unwise. He never trusted strangers on the road.

An altmeri accent typically meant she could stop and chat after plaguing the locals. If it’d been some other group before... well. She was on a list or three.

“Oh, you know.” She waved a finger in front of her. “Someone spilled their keg, and someone dropped a match. These things do happen when Stormcloaks are around.”

She turned and gave a strained smile to the mer near her.

“In all honesty, don’t go that way. It’s unpleasant. I’m Lanwa.” She held out a slightly singed gloved hand.

@nallron

Destruction had an obvious source. A red haired altmer woman lobbing a fire ball was a clear target to the Stormcloaks, but a hooded woman with a few bottles of what was clearly mead wandering around their little troup was… less of a threat. Until she lit the cloth hanging on from the neck of one bottle, let it burn, then chunked it into the middle of the group.

For being a mage and a ‘high bred’ altmer, Latailwe had a hell of a throwing arm. Half way between Morthal and Dawnstar, this patrol was too close for comfort to the Imperial headquarters. While she had no love for the Empire, she had less love for the Stormcloaks, and even less for the Thalmor. If she could stir up chaos, fewer Imperials would die, and ultimately more Thalmor would die fighting those Imperials later. Start a few fires. Kill some Stormcloaks. Take the reigns of history into her own hands. She would not be one of the altmer who stood by and watched.

Unlike a fireball spell, the liquid of the cocktail burned long after the glass shattered. The Stormcloaks panicked as they tried to put out the flames to little avail. The mixture, a concoction of alcohol and kindlepitch, would not be put out so easily, and every time one started to make progress, she flung a small spell until they were dead.

She hated the smell. How it clung to her. Her clothes. Her hair. Her dreams.

Latailwe left them, still alive but quickly dying, and continued on her way to her next sabotage and ambush. As she walked down the road, snow began to fall thick and heavy. A warm snowfall if there was such a thing. She pulled her hood close as she passed a man, or perhaps a group (she did not look up).

“There’s an accident down the road. Careful where you step.”

#///#/////#///////#////////#/#cw: burning people #idk what to tag this as

when did you find out your cousin and his kid had been arrested?

They got arrested? I thought they just got murdered...

There’s no record on them now. It’s all through the grapevine. Though Mom was told they’d been killed by werewolves, which given my family’s history? Bullshit.

#Anonymous

I’ve been a master of destruction since I was four.

....

Not destruction magic. Just like. Casual mayhem.

Think /you'd/ ever try to break into the Thalmor Embassy?

I wouldn’t need to break in. I know how to blend in.

#Anonymous

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