#fadedmisfits

[spawnmade]

@fadedmisfits sent [ CLOSER ]: while pinning the receiver against the wall, sender glances down at their lips, suddenly aware of how close they are to one another… (from Lucanis)

After being saved from Cazador by the man in front of him, Astarion hadn't known where to go. Getting the killing blow (because Lucanis had seen how much he needed it) on his former master had been thrilling but after that, what was he to do? Where was he to go?

He was nothing but a vampire scrambling to find a place in this world without a Master. Everything he'd been made to do, everything that had been done to him - it had been terrible but at least he knew what to expect.

Astarion is not sure if it had been mercy and pity but the man had seen how lost he was and taken him in under his wing. Mentions of how he'd fit right in with the crows given his taste for blood and his predisposition to being sneaky.

That fateful night had been many months ago. Lucanis had given him a place to stay and Astarion had stuck to hunting animals, no matter how much he craved human blood.

They worked well together, too. Astarion would be lying if he said he wasn't getting attached, wasn't feeling something for the Crow.

It is only when he finds himself pinned to the wall that he knows just how far that spark of something goes. There is no fear in Astarion's crimson eyed gaze, more like questioning and perhaps desire.

It has been so long since he's leaned into touch instead of flinched away from it and with a flicker of his eyes to lips, Astarion wonders what those lips would feel like against his own.

He is so tired of being cautious, of being afraid. He just wants to feel something nice for once so he takes that step, pressing his lips against Lucanis' own.

[dicethrow]

@fadedmisfits | starter call (for Shan)

A corpse lay upon the stone slab in Emmrich’s quarters—for perfectly good reason, of course. This happened to be the body of the leading Venatori whom he and Shan had incapacitated in the Necropolis. Emmrich stood with his hands clasped together, finding the scene before him entirely reasonable. After all, he had requested the body to question it on behalf of the Mourn Watch, and he had a few side inquiries about Minrathous to make on Neve’s behalf as well.

When Shan entered the room, Emmrich’s face lit up with a smile, clearly pleased to see him. He released his hands and gestured towards the corpse with an air of calm professionalism.

"Naturally, you have questions," he began, his tone warm and matter-of-fact. "Yes, I did indeed fetch the corpse myself. It would be terribly inconsiderate to ask Manfred to do such a thing—it would wreak havoc on his patellae."

[relentlessgrief]

may I offer you a fledgling lich (emmrich) in this trying time

Connor will hold him bridal style, thank you.

@fadedmisfits

[archonoclasm]

@fadedmisfits asked: ❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ (from Iron Bull, can be during or post Inquisition whichever you want ^_^) / &. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬: still accepting.

It was a miserable day. How lamentable. How ever could he believe it, that to anguish in these trenches could be more than drudgery? Maker, it's the ass-end of Thedas, the South with its philistines who have never learned to wash! Dorian nurses his beverage, teetering on the precipice of plummeting toward a mood. Stormy like a pissant or mouthy like a brat...? Hm. In his mind, the words of his father yet claw his skull.

"Thought that, had you? Of course you had. Your mind turning," Dorian starts glibly, "is enough to make your delightfully rustic Chantry sisters clutch their pearls." So miserable he seems to catch the Bull's eye, is he? Somehow, mortification like an acid gnaws at his belly. "Tell me, Bull, have you ever considered thinking less? I can hear it, that — all of it," he hedges. The tavern croons. Concern, he means. "It's deafening."

[veilblade]

@fadedmisfits asked: 「 LINGER 」 : for senders touch to linger on the receiver. (from Emmrich)

It should not have affected her as much as it did, this lingering touch of Emmrich's hand upon the small of her back; a ghost of a touch that still managed to spread warmth through her from the contact. Her breath hitched in her throat, a quiet inhale of breath, as she became all too aware of his proximity to her, of how he towered over her, his warmth at her side...

Soon enough, Raena could feel her face had become hot and feared that it had turned red too. Though she turned her head away in some attempt to conceal her flustered expression, her red cheeks, she still managed to let her body lean into Emmrich's touch ever so slightly, not wanting it to end despite its effect on her. She dared not speak, knowing that words would fail her and she would simply be stumbling over them, too flustered to make a coherent sentence. It was all unchartered territory for her. No one had shown interest in her before.

Did he have any idea his effect on her?

[dicethrow]

@fadedmisfits | liked for a starter (for Lucanis)

"A Crow?" he inquired, his gaze lingering on the Antivan’s attire. The corvid embellishments weren’t exactly subtle, but then, Gale supposed subtlety wasn’t always a Crow’s priority. Sometimes, being effective was enough.

Back in the Magisterium, Gale had often overheard whispers among his peers—quiet, nervous talk of contracts being placed. The word contract alone could drain the colour from a mage’s face. There were a few he knew well enough to think it wouldn’t be surprising if someone wanted them dead.

Now, as Lucanis stood before him, unarmed and seemingly relaxed, Gale figured it was nothing more than a chance encounter in the crowded Antivan marketplace. And yet, with Crows, certainty was a luxury.

[relentlessgrief]

@fadedmisfits sent:

❛ hey, are you okay? don’t fall apart on me. ❜ (from Emmrich)

Whatever held the undead together was slowly beginning to cause him to fall apart at the seams. The magical force keeping each bone connected together by a seemingly invisible thread appears to stutter and choke before coming back. Held on by invisible hinges, Connor's bones rattle.

One second, the pinprick red dots within his eye sockets are here, then gone the next.

Jaw going slack, and then closing again as the connection that was temporarily severed is restored again.

"I'm fine. For now. Yes." The undead's voice rumbles, but it is heavily obscured by static that would prickle at the other's ears.

"I'm here."

[dicethrow]

@ahandfullofrooks | Emmrich Starter Call | Jin

Emmrich wandered from his quarters in search of a book, with Manfred loyally trailing behind him. His ever-curious companion had much to explore at the Lighthouse, with its plethora of knowledge and fellow wisps to commune with. Yet, Emmrich was always grateful for Manfred’s presence—not just for the companionship, but for his invaluable assistance in carrying books that would otherwise overburden him.

As he strolled through the halls, however, his gaze caught Jin in the distance, their expression shadowed by discomfort—or perhaps even pain. The books could wait. A friend in need was far more important. Without hesitation, Emmrich altered his path, approaching Jin with concern etched on his face.

"Jin, my friend," he began gently, "I don’t wish to intrude on your thoughts, but whatever is on your mind seems to be troubling you. I’d be more than happy to listen and offer whatever comfort or advice I can." He gave a small, warm smile before gesturing to Manfred beside him. "Manfred, too—although I’d suggest he participate more in the listening than the advising. Still, it could be an excellent opportunity for him to better understand the complexities of life here by hearing your story."

Emmrich’s voice softened, his sincerity evident. "I can assure you, whatever you choose to confide in us will stay between us, in this moment alone."

A flicker of sadness passed through him as he regarded Jin. To be adrift, without memories of who they once were—it must be unimaginably daunting.