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“Don’t you pass out on me”
Cursing softly, the mage shook her head to try clear the fog of blood loss from it; regretting the action instantly as a sharp pain lanced through her skull.
“I’m trying not to I promise, I just can’t see well enough to find my healing potions in my pack. I’ve used the ones I had on my belt on the others back in the cave. Would you dig me one out? Please?”
@curseofashes | @ancientdread
She was playing a game of cat-and-mouse with Dagna. Which, honestly, isn’t too difficult because the other woman has her nose dearly buried in some sort of mystical doo-dad that she was muttering to herself about, as well as frowning at. Skyhold was rather busy in the morning--sleepy servants rushing off to make ready for their master’s morning, pages running back and forth and as always, the be-robed mages that seemed to never sleep.
It was easy to slip in between them without notice, especially going plain clothed. And, well. You know. Sneaking.
Dagna made a sharp left turn toward the Rotunda, where Baldy liked to spend most of his time when he wasn’t all...Fade-y. Anthracite ducked behind one of the builder’s scaffolding while Dagna just mosied on into Solas’ room and shut the door behind her.
She looked left, looked right, then begun sneaking toward the heavy wooden door that muffled their familiar voices.
“I don’t understand,” --she heard Dagna’s cheerful voice bubble in frustration. “I’ve tried six different methods, with seventeen different runes. I really don’t know what’s going on. It should work, I know that I found several different notes--”
Anthracite heard Solas mutter something, but Dagna simply talked right over him.
“Do you think--OH!-- what if, yes! That’s brilliant Solas!”
“I...did not say anything.” His muffled voice becoming clear to Anthracite. Because she had her face plastered to the door. And her ear.
“Of course! That’s what I’m missing. SO! I just twist this...here..and then sprinkle a little---and maybe--”
“Hold, that is incor--” Solas began.
That’s when the subsonic rumble began, the only warning to come before Anthracite found herself arse-over-tea-kettle sprawled on the floor, the door having slammed open in the resulting blast of ...whatever...Dagna had did.
Solas stood absolutely ram-rod straight, eyes slightly widened and mouth half open. His ear tips appeared to be reddened, as well as several spots in his green tunic singed. Dagna obviously got the worst of the blast, being about as magically talented as any dwarf. Her hair was standing on end as well as in tangles as the other dwarf began hooting and dancing in place with triumph!
“That did it! It worked!” She cried.
Anthracite shook her head sharply to stop the ringing. Rolled onto a hip to rub her aching backside and did a small double-take at the other dwarf.
“Uhmmmmm,” Pointing absently up at the arcanist. “Were you–are you aware you’re on fire?”
❝ isn’t it strange that i know you’d risk your life to save mine , but i don’t even know what your favorite color is ? ❞ (whichever muse you'd like)
Katalia laughed, the sound bright and pleasant. “I never understood what a favorite color tells you about a person, but since you ask, it’s green.” She gestures to indicate her robes of deep forest green. “I would have thought it rather obvious, and it’s the color of my eyes. I think that’s part of the appeal. Is that vain of me, do you think?”
♥
Asher woke suddenly in bed when he felt a hand on his shoulder and lips on his neck. He had no memory of the night before and didn’t want to seem rude. “Morning.” He said nervously while rolling onto his back.
❝ i’m cold. & it’s indoors. this is so wrong. ❞
“I think I must agree.” Boden replied, drawing his hands into the slightly-too-long sleeves of his robe. “I hadn’t noticed until you mentioned it.”
@curseofashes
The first Morag Tong associate dispatched, the Daedra knelt, rifling through the fallen man’s pockets. No doubt the group had been hired to kill a Breton hunter by the name of Herne, he didn’t think even Sithis would be so stupid as to send his children after one of the Daedric Lords. Still, a contract on his life would prove aggravating at worst. Best to stay vigilant until things blew over.
◯
Send me a ◯ for my muse’s reaction to yours hitting them in the face with a snowball!
The snowball came from nowhere, it seemed, and Dalamus let out a startled yelp despite no harm being done. He sputtered as he spat the snow from his mouth and wipe it from his face until he could see the culprit and, without taking his eyes off her, he quickly scooped up some snow. This meant war.
He threw a snowball in retaliation but missed, and moved towards cover. “You are lucky you are small!” he taunted.
curseofashes
The books in the library are crisp, cold, and neatly stacked.
Doors of Oblivion. Daedra Worship. 100 Accounts of Daedra Worship in History. His lips purse; a single finger pulls at the spine of the latter, slipping it from the shelf with the gentlest care. He cradles it like a babe.
Snow beats at the colored window panes, surrounding the dome’d room. The stink of new and old parchment and the stunk of fresh ink is a soothing cocoon, swaddled in the warmth of hearth fire and wooly clothes. He sinks his neck deeper into his robes, the tops of his tipped ears pink and sensitive. He huffs, and hugs the book to his chest, wiggling his toes in his shoes.
Azura keep the cold at bay. Meridia, bring the sun, and the Warmth.
Roland snorts.
