na via lerno victoria

❣ ~ kirkwallbirdofpeace

An accidentally-burnt valentine’s day breakfast

He should have known better than to try it in the first place. At the very least, he should have suspected that something was wrong when the eggs turned vaguely brown and a strange, acrid scent had started to rise into the air. A former slave he might have been, but Fenris had never been made to do housework, cooking included.

So when the food sitting atop the stove in the Hawke residence caught fire, he wasn’t quite sure of what to do. So much for a kind gesture.

Cursing loudly, the elf grabbed the flaming pan by its handle, shuffling back and forth with it uncertainly across the kitchen. There was no water nearby… the logical solution was to blow out the flames.

Which in turn caused flaming bits of egg to scatter all over the floor.

He managed to stomp out the fire on the floor, making quite a racket in the silence of the sleeping household, but the pan in his hand was still flaming when he looked up to see the familiar silhouette in the kitchen doorway.

Fenris blinked at the Champion, his face an impassive deadpan. “I made breakfast.”

Having been vaguely occupied with being wooed by Fenris’ masterful flirting skills, and even more distracted by the sound of his laughter, Malachi didn’t notice the thievery until it was too late and the pastry was stolen from him. He quipped up to protest, but was too slow, so simply gave Fenris a wry look, as if to say ‘get your own pastry, thief.’ Still, Malachi didn’t put up a fight and grabbed another piece, eating it directly this time. He tilted himself to lean back against the counter beside Fenris, letting out a soft snort.

"Oh, that’s horribly romantic. You certainly know how to woo a man. You’re almost as good as Aveline."

#masterdanarius #[big sean voice] oH GOD

"You caught me. Wooing was exactly what I was trying to accomplish. I came into your house this morning with explicit intention to woo." If Fenris’ eyes rolled any further, he would have been looking at the inside of his own head. Still, a faint flush settled across his cheekbones, his voice harsh and defensive when he spoke again. "I do not woo, Hawke. One would think that you would know I’m hardly the wooing type.”

#kirkwallbirdofpeace

kyllianthegrey

Hello my loverly followers! I have no idea how there got to be so many of you, but welcome and thank you for taking an interest in this little personal hobby/ life ruiner of mine called roleplay! You are all fabulous, so, as a gift of my thanks, here! Have a Giveaway!

Rules

You will have to give me your mailing address for certain prizes. Be prepared to be comfortable with that.

You must be following me. You may follow to enter the giveaway, but plan on staying, will you? I’d much appreciate it!

If you follow me on multiple roleplay accounts, feel free to enter for each blog. Prizes will apply to that character though.

One like and One reblog per entrant. I don’t think tumblr counts multiple reblogs anyway.

Giveaway ends on February 28th at Midnight CST. I will announce winners on the 1st of March.

The Goodies

1st Place-

A full, color art of your character/character of your choice. (Example pictures available upon request)

A Dragon Age themed patch of your choice from THIS LOVELY ETSY or a Grey Warden Decal for your computer

2nd Place-

A photo manipulation of your character/character of your choice. (Within my ability)

10 roleplay icons of your character

Which ever of the two objects was not selected by 1st place winner (The decal, or the patch)

3rd Place-

A photo manipulation of your character/character of your choice. (Within my ability, probably smaller than 2nd places photo manip)

A promo post set to que once a week for 1 month.

All the love in my heart (I’m sorry I’m poor!)

[[MasterDanarius]] Nearly forgot how your pretty face looks, my pet. I wonder where your little friends are to protect you now? *smirks*

"I am no one’s pet. And I am more than capable of protecting myself. Want to test that theory?"

❣ ~ kirkwallbirdofpeace

An accidentally-burnt valentine’s day breakfast

He should have known better than to try it in the first place. At the very least, he should have suspected that something was wrong when the eggs turned vaguely brown and a strange, acrid scent had started to rise into the air. A former slave he might have been, but Fenris had never been made to do housework, cooking included.

So when the food sitting atop the stove in the Hawke residence caught fire, he wasn’t quite sure of what to do. So much for a kind gesture.

Cursing loudly, the elf grabbed the flaming pan by its handle, shuffling back and forth with it uncertainly across the kitchen. There was no water nearby… the logical solution was to blow out the flames.

Which in turn caused flaming bits of egg to scatter all over the floor.

He managed to stomp out the fire on the floor, making quite a racket in the silence of the sleeping household, but the pan in his hand was still flaming when he looked up to see the familiar silhouette in the kitchen doorway.

Fenris blinked at the Champion, his face an impassive deadpan. “I made breakfast.”

"If I find an actual bleeding heart on my letter desk, I’ll try to remember to be touched." Malachi snorted as he plucked up one of the pretty little pastries and started to pick it apart, imagining Fenris actually leaving a physical, human heart as a sign of affection. Well— it would be straight to the point, for sure. Perhaps a bit unhygienic. But amusing.

Malachi glanced up from his desecration of the pastry to Fenris’ ruffled hair, a soft smile immediately brightening his face once more. This certainly was turning out to be quite a wonderful morning. Fenris’ good humored embarrassment only put the icing on the cake. “Don’t worry— I’d like to keep this memory as one of my own private use, thanks. The day Fenris tries to cook for someone. It’s very touching indeed. Besides, no one would ever believe me.”

A short bark of a laugh burst past his lips, out before he could stop it as his mouth quirked into a lopsided grin. "Cats leave dead mice on the doorsteps of people they like. Human hearts aren't terribly different."

It was easy enough to see how Hawke got a laugh out the idea - the mental image was admittedly entertaining. Still smirking, Fenris darted out a hand and snatched the intact part of the pastry out of Malachi's hand, tossing the gnawed core of his apple into the rubbish bin and biting off a corner of the sweet, flaky bread. "I'll wrap it up with one of Isabela's fancy silk ribbons and have it delivered to you for Satinalia. Just pick whose heart you want."

#kirkwallbirdofpeace

❣ ~ kirkwallbirdofpeace

An accidentally-burnt valentine’s day breakfast

He should have known better than to try it in the first place. At the very least, he should have suspected that something was wrong when the eggs turned vaguely brown and a strange, acrid scent had started to rise into the air. A former slave he might have been, but Fenris had never been made to do housework, cooking included.

So when the food sitting atop the stove in the Hawke residence caught fire, he wasn’t quite sure of what to do. So much for a kind gesture.

Cursing loudly, the elf grabbed the flaming pan by its handle, shuffling back and forth with it uncertainly across the kitchen. There was no water nearby… the logical solution was to blow out the flames.

Which in turn caused flaming bits of egg to scatter all over the floor.

He managed to stomp out the fire on the floor, making quite a racket in the silence of the sleeping household, but the pan in his hand was still flaming when he looked up to see the familiar silhouette in the kitchen doorway.

Fenris blinked at the Champion, his face an impassive deadpan. “I made breakfast.”

With the kitchen returned to a vaguely clean state, Malachi straightened his disoriented robe thrown on in his haste to attend to what he had thought was an actual fire. He knew Oranna wasn’t the best chef, but she was competent, and Malachi trusted Bodhan to watch over her. But now, if Fenris was going to try to be domestic—

Well, he might have to have several buckets of water ready, just in case.

The warrior chuckled and grabbed a plate of Oranna’s pastries and set them on the center counter, leaning forward against it. “Don’t be discouraged, you just have little experience. To your credit, frying things are harder than roasting them. You can spear an animal and stick it over a pit easily enough, but eggs require a bit of finesse. You just need some practice.”

Hawke wasn’t a chef by any means, but if he was going to experiment with Fenris— Well. It wouldn’t be so bad. It would be humorous, at least.

#kirkwallbirdofpeace #[creeps over to your inbox~]

"After my experience this morning, I believe I will leave the task of cooking in Oranna’s very capable hands," Fenris snorted, rolling his eyes and hopping up to sit on the counter. Oranna would fuss if she saw, but she wasn’t around at the moment, and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. "I’ll stick with what I know - ripping organs out of someone’s enemies might not be the most delicate way of telling them you care, but it’s a better solution than burning down their house."

In the chaos of the burning eggs debacle, his hair had gotten ruffled into an absolute mess, something that refused to calm down even after he raked his had arbitrarily through it, shooting Malachi a warning glare. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, our friendship is over.”

❣ ~ kirkwallbirdofpeace

An accidentally-burnt valentine’s day breakfast

He should have known better than to try it in the first place. At the very least, he should have suspected that something was wrong when the eggs turned vaguely brown and a strange, acrid scent had started to rise into the air. A former slave he might have been, but Fenris had never been made to do housework, cooking included.

So when the food sitting atop the stove in the Hawke residence caught fire, he wasn’t quite sure of what to do. So much for a kind gesture.

Cursing loudly, the elf grabbed the flaming pan by its handle, shuffling back and forth with it uncertainly across the kitchen. There was no water nearby… the logical solution was to blow out the flames.

Which in turn caused flaming bits of egg to scatter all over the floor.

He managed to stomp out the fire on the floor, making quite a racket in the silence of the sleeping household, but the pan in his hand was still flaming when he looked up to see the familiar silhouette in the kitchen doorway.

Fenris blinked at the Champion, his face an impassive deadpan. “I made breakfast.”

Malachi really did try his best not to laugh, but to his credit, Fenris’ scowl was heavily damaged by the bits of burnt egg decorating his pale hair. It didn’t do much for his ‘intimidating soul-ripper’ image. Biting his tongue to keep from laughing, Malachi reached forward and brushed the stray bits out of Fenris’ shoulder feathers. “Not that I don’t appreciate the thought, of course. I do. And you do notice that I’m not laughing.”

Giving his friend a briefly smug look, he continued to clean up at least a bit for Oranna to attend later, moving the slightly burnt pans into the tin wash tub. “I’ll laugh later when I’m alone,” he mumbled under his breath, grinning brightly with his back turned.

#kirkwallbirdofpeace #[help oh god they're cute]#[debates on going to your ibox to ask if we can do a thing]#[*ships fawke aggressively*]

"Merrill once asked me why I never do 'nice things,'" Fenris stated in an even monotone, gesturing vaguely around the chaos he had wrought in the Hawke kitchen as if to present evidence. "This is why."

Grimacing, he reached over and plucked an apple off a carved wooden bowl on the counter, munching on it viciously as Malachi chucked the blackened cooking utensils into the washtub. Laughing soundlessly at his ineptitude. Bastard.

"And so passes the first and last time I will ever attempt to do anything nice for you, Hawke," he sniped, the venom in his voice belied by a slight upward quirk of his lips.

+littlelyriumwolf

"With a very unique skill set that I am not at liberty or leisure to discuss."

"An elf with a unique skill set that allows him to punch through bone. I will endeavor not to make you angry."

#ashasaarebas #in soviet thedas fenboo and his assholery love YOU

"A wise endeavor to make."

+littlelyriumwolf

"… Huh. How do you deal with the sternum?"

#ashasaarebas #[fenboo is an ass i'm sorry]

"With a very unique skill set that I am not at liberty or leisure to discuss."

❣ ~ kirkwallbirdofpeace

An accidentally-burnt valentine’s day breakfast

He should have known better than to try it in the first place. At the very least, he should have suspected that something was wrong when the eggs turned vaguely brown and a strange, acrid scent had started to rise into the air. A former slave he might have been, but Fenris had never been made to do housework, cooking included.

So when the food sitting atop the stove in the Hawke residence caught fire, he wasn’t quite sure of what to do. So much for a kind gesture.

Cursing loudly, the elf grabbed the flaming pan by its handle, shuffling back and forth with it uncertainly across the kitchen. There was no water nearby… the logical solution was to blow out the flames.

Which in turn caused flaming bits of egg to scatter all over the floor.

He managed to stomp out the fire on the floor, making quite a racket in the silence of the sleeping household, but the pan in his hand was still flaming when he looked up to see the familiar silhouette in the kitchen doorway.

Fenris blinked at the Champion, his face an impassive deadpan. “I made breakfast.”

Hawke had first been alerted by the smell of burning food, alarmed— had Oranna finally burnt the house down? Or maybe one of Sandal’s enchantments gone ‘boom’… But at the sound of loud, Tevinter cursing, Malachi calmed on his hastened way to the kitchen, still disheveled from jerking out of bed. He was always on the cautious side, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Dismissing Oranna’s flinching concern at the rage in the shouts, Malachi headed toward the kitchen and entered slowly, unable to erase the incredibly amused smile from his face. Fenris was cooking.

How on earth did Fenris live on his own?

His smile growing wider, Malachi rushed forward and grabbed the bucket of water Oranna drew that morning, dipping the pan’s flaming contents inside.

"No offense, Fenris, but I think we can settle for some fruit instead."

#kirkwallbirdofpeace #chef fenru #BAM #[omg no respond all you want i admire the shit out of you bro]

The grin on Hawke's face was nothing short of infuriating, Fenris mused, grumbling internally as the Champion walked over and doused his entire morning of hard work in Oranna's cleaning bucket. Rude.

Still, even he had to acknowledge that any other course of action would have probably resulted in the entire Hawke Estate burning to the ground. Perhaps next time he'd invest in a gift of some nice armor, or write a nice letter, something a little less deadly than making breakfast.

Picking a few fragments of charred egg out of his hair, he gave Hawke a tentative sidelong glance, daring him to laugh. "Yes... perhaps that would be best."

+littlelyriumwolf

"Where does one find clawed gauntlets?"