#cimetier

[herisms]

"you requested a way to keep contact with your outposts" is the greeting vito receives upon approaching olin in his tower. it isn't so much a question as it is a statement - it's his business to know every single face that enters and leaves skyhold, and introductions and pleasantries have never been his strong suit.

he sits at his desk, leaned back with his elbows on the arms of his chair, feet and legs splayed comfortably, a contemplative hand rubbing at his chin. one of his younger falcons, ylva, has perched herself atop the backrest. alert, sky blue eyes glance the mage up and down, analyzing his posture and face to gauge the level of trust brought to their meeting. after several beats, he adjusts himself, sitting up straighter and squaring his shoulders.

"i believe we can establish lines of communication between you and your people that are swift and discreet," he assures the other man, firm in his eye contact, betraying nothing but directness and honesty. "all i need is their locations."

@cimetier ♡

[ada1r-arc]

@cimetier / one-liner call !

"we have only one chance at this. you must be ready."

[orcstricken]

𝐭𝐡𝐞    𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝    𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝    𝐡𝐢𝐦    𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐬.    all    he    can    think    of    is    the    agonizing    pain.    he    cannot    tell    where    he    was    injured    as    his    entire    body    has    seemed    to    be    engulfed    in    flames.    poison    rushes    through    his    veins,    and    surely    there    is    nothing    that    can    be    done    to    stop    it.    his    brothers    carry    him,    running    as    quickly    as    they    can    to    find    someone,    anyone    who    can    help    him.    they    stumble    across    men.    the    ones    from    dale    who    have    been    graciously    invited    to    stay    alongside    the    elves.    they    were    out    on    a    hunt,    the    wardens    close    to    their    side    to    protect    them.    they    were    ambushed.    who    knows    how    many    survived    .    .    .    it    was    a    band    of    orcs    far    larger    than    normal.    rumil    is    speaking    frantically    to    them    in    broken    westron,    piecing    together    sentences    only    barely    understandable    by    the    women    who    are    trying    to    understand    him.    at    the    word,    ‘    orcs    ‘    they    gasp,    looking    at    each    other    with    fear    that    their    husbands    may    not    return.    for    surely,    if    the    march    warden    has    fallen,    that    leaves    little    hope    to    carry.    the    world    becomes    two    as    haldir’s    vision    blurs.    “    healer    .    .    .    “    he    groans.    “    someone,    please.    “ even    speaking    is    taking    far    too    much    of    his    energy.    he    barely    has    any    left    to    spare,    as    he    is    using    the    rest    of    it    to    stay    alive.    wide    eyes    dart    from    face    to    face,    hoping    someone    will    step    forward,    but    the    crowd    of    faces    stare    at    him    in    both    fear    and    shock.    these,    of    course,    are    not    healers    but    women    of    the    dale    society    with    seemingly    little    experience    with    orc    poison.    that    is    until    one    familiar    face    steps    forward.    he    remembers    her    well.    who    wouldn’t    ??    he    remembers    standing    in    the    throne    room.    meeting    her    gaze    from    across    the    room,    as    galadriel    and    celeborn    gave    their    warm    wishes    to    her    newly    coronated    father.    he    held    her    gaze    far    too    long    than    appropriate,    though    something    about    it    felt    right.    he    narrowed    it    down    to    innocent    curiosity    more    than    anything    else.    he    opens    his    mouth,    though    he    doesn’t    know    whether    to    address    her    or    to    simply    beg    for    help.    it    is    not    often    haldir    is    left    feeling    desperate.    he    wants    so    desperately    to    cling    onto    this    beautiful    life    and    to    wake    up    once    more    in    his    beloved    forest    in    the    mildewy    grass.    to    look    up    at    the    stars    at    night    and    find    each    constellation    as    he    does    every    night.    to    behold    the    sight    of    a    beautiful    woman,    especially    the    one    standing    above    him    now.    life    is    precious,    and    he    dares    not    leave    it    now.    “    do    not    speak,    brother.    “    orophin    urges    in    their    native    tongue.    “    you    will    be    healed.    “ haldir    does    not    listen,    forcing    out    the    words    to    her    so    she    can    understand.    “    help    me.    “

plotted starter for @cimetier​

[wilczmina]

this your man?

I’M  GONNA  SCREAM  .

[dovaeh]

tlou starters. "i've seen it in my dreams." @cimetier, fenjall.

unfair as it may seem to him, unable to pick and choose after being shackled to this gift by the gods, maesena has no need for his prophecies. she can already tell that just this little snippet will weigh on her mind even when she leaves him, a nagging thought biting at the back of her brain. her mind should be focused solely on ensuring her own strength for the battles ahead — not hunting for the truth from his visions like picking the mold from bread.

which is unkind of her. she feels guilty even if he can't hear her thoughts ( ... she thinks ) to know her selfishness. mae sighs and doesn't meet his eye. "let the rest be a mystery to me... at least for now. i would rather compare the reality to the dream than to anticipate something seemingly inevitable."

[mvrigny]

Name: Anarandil Joreis. Age: 190 Do you like to cuddle?: ...sure. Can we make-out?: Certainly. A night in or dinner out?: Night in. Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: Strawberries. What makes you a good Valentine?: Experience. Would you cook for me?: Cook, maybe. Mix drinks, certainly. Would you let me cook for you?: If you are so inclined.

accepted only if the drinks are actually good.

[orcristwielder]

A !

• SOURCE • / accepting.

This one can be found here! But, to add to it: another way he can show affection is by teaching someone what he does, that shows an interest. So, basically; say if Tilda or Sigrid wanted to learn the harp, or Bain wished to learn how to craft things; that would be his way of being happy and he would show them. Or, a simple pat to the shoulder is another way, but in reference to the link above, he's more than likely to use the forehead touch.

@cimetier

[mvrigny]

Name: kalla Age: 26 Do you like to cuddle?: no Can we make-out?: maybe A night in or dinner out?: night in Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: snowberry crostada What makes you a good Valentine?: stronger than most men and a fine warrior Would you cook for me?: i can hunt instead Would you let me cook for you?: depends on how bad your cooking is

absolutely horrible at selling yourself but minerva is intrigued: accepted.