The glossy blacks are picking up the light some, but I can't get the color right otherwise.
Based on my and @kalli-kalli's Barbies with Backstories (i.e. our DnD characters). Loravyre is a wood elf paladin & Denni is a wizard.
Read on (I know the story is about Dawn Flower, but the painting turned out more fire than dawn):
“You’ve changed,” Loravyre said as she stared into the dying fire. Everyone else had gone to sleep, Denni offering to take the first watch because she hated the early morning ones. Loravyre stayed awake with her because…because she had the next watch and it was easier to stay awake than to fall asleep and have to get up again. Besides, she only needed four hours. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with how she and Denni had been staying awake and talking quietly since the boat. They were both eager to learn about the other. Loravyre was always so tight-lipped around everyone else, but it seemed to fade with the sun. It was something that was not quite intentional, keeping herself from others. Less of a conscious thought and more of an inadvertent habit. She’d been nomadic for a decade.
With those words, Denni whipped her head to the side to be able to look at Lor, concerned. She had to turn her head nearly completely over her shoulder; Lor was only a couple of feet away, close enough that she’d be able to touch her if she only reached out. They’d been moving closer and closer together over the nights, originally starting nearly across the fire from each other. Denni had stayed where she always was, but Loravyre was inching closer. “What do you mean?” she asked desperately, clutching her knees to her chest. Was Lor trying to say she didn’t like her anymore?
Something tugged at the corner of Loravyre’s mouth as she leaned further back on her palms, legs straight out, crossed at the ankles. “No, I mean, it’s just…” she pressed her lips together until her mouth was nearly a straight line before she decided what she wanted to say. “You aren’t the person who started out with the caravan.”
Denni searched her face. “Is that bad?”
Loravyre smiled, the not-quite-sad smile she often wore. “No.” She shrugged. “I’ll be honest, I barely even registered you to start.”
Denni’s heart sank. What was she trying to say? Where was this going?
“When I did notice you…you were timid, usually more interested in your books than in anything else. To me…you were just another body I had to try to protect from the elements.” The logs popped, throwing an ember towards them, which Loravyre swiftly but disinterestedly kicked back in. “You’re not that person anymore.”
Denni waited, but she did not elaborate further, just continuing to stare into the fire. Finally, she replied. “You’re not the same anymore either, you know.”
Surprised, Loravyre looked over at her, meeting her eyes briefly before she quickly turned back to the fire.
“I noticed you,” she continued softly. “I noticed you because you were the only elf guarding us. I noticed your face as you looked at us. How angry you looked when the caravan had to stop, again. How I never saw you smile. How, even though you seemed to hate everything, you so carefully backpacked Rain through difficult terrain.” Denni wished she was sitting in any other position so she could edge closer. She unfolded her legs and stretched out, hoping it wasn’t obvious that she was trying to scoot in a little (it was). “But that’s not you anymore. You still backpack us when we need it,” she said with a little dip of her head sideways. “But I don’t see that same hate on your face constantly. You even smile sometimes at other people.” She didn’t add in that she’d noticed Lor smile at her more often than the others. Keep that a little secret lest Lor start to try to control it. “You also aren’t telling people to shut the fuck up quite as often.”
Loravyre glanced up at her again before smiling a little more earnestly, a little less sadly. “Yeah. I guess not.”
Both of their heads turned back to the fire, silent but not uncomfortably so. Just pensive.
“You remind me of something,” Loravyre said suddenly, almost rushed.
Denni glanced over at her with a wry smile. “I hope something good.”
Loravyre grinned fully as her head dropped to study her feet instead of the fire. “Yes. Or, at least, I think it is.” Growing more somber, she raised her head back to the flames. “We have these plants in my grove, we call them tindómë elanor. I guess the best translation is ‘dawn flower.’ They bloom in the morning, pale blue. And then, throughout the day, they slowly change color until they’re orange shot through with scarlet. And then, at night, they close up completely, and then do it all again the next day. It’s like how you changed. How you can change.” Her voice dropped even lower. “They are beautiful all the time. But I think they’re especially pretty at night. And I think you’re beautiful all the time. But you’re especially pretty when you get to change into yourself.” She snuck a peek at Denni, mouth and eyes wide in surprise at Vandria Gilmadrith’s Paladin of Vengeance referring to her as a beautiful flower. Loravyre bit her lip before she held her hand out to Denni.
Denni gaped down at it, confused, for long heartbeats before she realized Lor was waiting for her to put her hand in hers. She hesitantly lifted a hand and laid it in Loravyre’s open palm.
Loravyre smiled at her sidelong before closing her fingers around Denni’s and tugging gently on Denni’s arm. Denni only looked up at her, still wide-eyed and speechless. Lor smiled wider and made a motion with her head. “Come here.”
Denni tried not to scramble over too eagerly, thrilled that she’d been invited into the bubble Lor seemed to always try to keep around herself. A little piece of her wondered how long it would last—was she the opposite of a dawn flower, opening at night and closing before first light? But she didn’t dwell on those thoughts. Best to simply enjoy opportunities presented to her than try to analyze them into mush.
Once she was within range, Loravyre released Denni’s hand and slid hers around her waist, pulling her in even closer. She laid her cheek against the top of Denni’s head, which in turn pressed Denni’s head onto Loravyre’s shoulder. “Denira Blackflame,” she whispered, “the Dawn Flower.”
They both went quiet again, staring at the licks of red and orange, Denni imagining what a dawn flower must look like while, for Loravyre, the flames morphed into what she remembered. Finally, Loravyre released Denni and gave her a quick kiss along her hairline. “Time for you to go to bed, Dawn Flower.”
sometimes I wonder how y'all are obsessed with specific characters and I'm like "why them" but then I remember that sometimes its literally not your choice you just look at them wrong and all of a sudden they're taking up your every thought forever
Please don't ask why, but I was compelled to draw my OC Loravyre and @kalli-kalli's OC Denni in the style of 90s Sailor Moon. I haven't drawn like this since the 90s so...
No story to go with this one. Just that Loravyre is hopelessly in love with Denni.
I am curious about your ideas for fem Astarion. Is it temporary or permanent? If permanent, how would drow man dude react? Would Astarion fully go all out with the chance, voice chance and all, or is he trying to still be himself but with boobs and new parts? Lol so sorry for these questions but I have to know.
If I understood the logistics of Corellon's Blessing, that's something that the individual can do willy-nilly once every long rest.
Since it seems to affect sex and not gender, and be very binary in nature (though I'm sure you could homebrew an inbetween) I assume that all primary and secondary characteristics would change - so that would indeed include the voice! Though I still personally picture a female Astarion as having a pretty deep tone, even if distinguishably feminine in person.
That said, he is very much still himself - well, herself. Much like in the way that I treat Fem!DU Drow, I like to preserve the characters as much as possible in a gender-bendy situation. And with this one in particular (where this is something that can actually happen in-universe through "normal" means) I see no reason for this to impact the character in any significant way beyond aesthetics - ESPECIALLY Astarion.
Anyways, I bet it's something he does every other decade just for fun. The drow is thrilled either way.
I never send asks but I haven't slept in nearly 48 hours and i need you to know Staeve is the most gorgeous oc I've ever seen what the fuck do I do now
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