#luhnsilvars

[bretonbookworm]

@luhnsilvars wanted a starter

She's not prone to bothering others needlessly, which is to say it's quite necessary when she approaches the Dunmer. There's a light tap-tap-tap of her heels upon the wooden floor of the inn as she moves, gloved hands clasped politely and just so before her.

"Pardon my interruption." A delicate voice matches her otherwise doll like visage. "But you have not, by chance, spotted a cat about have you? Orange? With rather adorable white-socked feet? I fear he stole away while I was otherwise engaged. "

Her expression is mild but her eyes betray both worry and hope.

[noamuth]

[ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ?

[ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ?

[ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ?

At the risk of overcomplicating it--both. At the moment he is more likely to flinch from touch than he is to lean into it. Sometimes Dalamus fears it because he craves it. He has distant, blurry memories of the sort of comfort it can bring thanks to his brother, Nilaufein, but real affection in Lolthite-filled Menzoberranzan is exceedingly rare, and risky to show even where it is true.

He is touch starved and does not realize it--does not even know of the concept--because he has convinced himself (or perhaps the teachings of Lolth have told him) that desiring any kind of softness or affection makes him easy to manipulate. Nedvyllanna was quick to notice and exploit this starvation of his, using affection as a reward for when he pleased her, and otherwise withholding it unless she wanted something from him.

Touch allows some amount of control to be given to (or taken by) another. It certainly does not help that his bodily autonomy was forfeit to Nedvyllanna while he acted as Patron and, in short, this was traumatizing even if he believed it to be normal. He does not know he is traumatized; he just knows that when touch and affection were not transactional, they were manipulative, and from Nedvyllanna sometimes accompanied by pain. He is terrified of someone having that power over him again, even though would go back to Nedvyllanna should she want to take him back (she would not).

This fear can sometimes be so great as to cause him to push someone away when they are trying to help him, even if the lack of that help might mean his death. It is the same reason why, after being saved anyway, he may not act grateful (in addition to believing he now owes a great debt).

One can see this struggle with touch in his body language if he does allow contact--his breathing becomes measured, his posture tense and body stiff. If he is willing to trust, however, he will eventually relax.

[ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ?

Oof, how do I pick just one when there are dozens at least? I will give you three.

He will need help from others, and that is okay.

He has inherent worth by virtue of being a person, which does not require productivity, a station, or title to be true.

He misses his brother.

[wolfclad]

✶ a small starter for @luhnsilvars

Pale shards of moonlight sliced through the thick canopy of trees that surrounded them, the night air carrying the scent of damp moss and something sharper, more primal – iron and animal musk. Farkas crouched low, his broad frame coiled with tension as his gaze swept the underbrush. He was used to this, to the chase, to the blood-pounding anticipation of battle. What unsettled him wasn’t the hunt, but his unlikely companion. Veresa moved beside him like a wraith, her dark eyes glinting with purpose, her sharp presence as unnerving as it was magnetic.

The beast was near – he could feel it, hear the padding of its enormous paws as it prowled just beyond the tree line. A rogue werewolf, twisted by its own madness, stripped of all humanity. It was a mirror Farkas hated to look into, the kind of monster he feared becoming. Yet here he was, hunting one of his own kind alongside a Dunmer who carried a leaden shadow all her own.

“Keep close,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough. The last thing he needed was for her to vanish into thin air again. Still, she melted into the trees, her scarf a streak against her leather armour, until she was almost invisible. Her magic unnerved him as much as her clipped sarcasm.

[tidesfate]

“&– - So you are the one the tides of fate carried here to stop this transgression.” // @luhnsilvars liked for a dialogue starter

[noamuth]

[ 20. ] sender invites receiver to dance with them, insisting, "what? this song's perfect."

(Platonically of course! Maybe they're at the tiefling party and alfira is playing something fun, or maybe they just have a bard in camp at any point or something lol)

Dalamus, of course, stands far from the center of the revelry, glass of wine in hand--if one can even call this 'wine'. Normally, he might avoid indulging in anything which could dull his senses or reactions, but it is the only thing giving him the courage to not excuse himself from the 'party' entirely.

He is partway into a second glass when Veresa approaches and, thanks to the wine, manages not to be too bothered by her offer--but still not drunk enough to accept it without a bit of encouragement, shaking his head mildly.

"I have not danced in years," he says, gesturing slightly too emphatically with his glass and spilling some of his wine, pulling a Drowic curse from him. He downs the rest of it so it does not go to waste. After clearing his throat, he continues, "I do not know any Surface dances, and I do not wish to appear like a fool."

[dalamusrex]

"You're not a monster. You're my friend."

The vampire responds with a small smile.

"Two things can be true at once, but thank you, Veresa. The feeling will pass. It always does, eventually. Having a friend near certainly helps it pass more quickly."

[dalamusrex]

"I don't know where the blood ends. Where my hands begin."

Dalamus' eyes soften with sympathy, and he takes her hands in both of his. Though his hands are cold, he squeezes hers warmly.

"Your hands are here," he says gently. "I feel them. Their warmth. I cannot speak to how much blood they have seen, but I would be a hypocrite to judge you for it. You are a good person, Veresa."

[noamuth]

🎉 A happy song for my muse

It Has Begun by STARSET

"Happy" may not be the best description, but I definitely think it counts. To me, it is triumphant. It is about finally feeling unified with the rest of the Tadfools and having hope and determination for accomplishing their goal of defeating the Absolute.

The beat and bass of the song really amp up the Heading Towards The Final Battle vibes

Everyone knows by now Fairy-tales are not found They're written in the walls As we walk in a straight line Down in the dirt with a landslide approaching But nothing could ever stop us From stealing our own place in the sun We will face the odds against us And run into the fear we run from (ah, ah) It has begun