#myria tabris

[unclezuko]

oc kiss week is coming up & for once i may be able to participate in it fully (in the form of writing and accepting tiny ficlet ideas), so i thought i’d make refs for my main babes in case anyone is interested in smooching ‘em!

names & brief descriptions are found in their respective captions, but without further ado, meet:

myriani tabris (page / pinterest board)

rhyza adaar (page / pinterest board)

azarys adaar (page / pinterest board)

message me if you're interested!! ♡

[unclezuko]

oc orders

myriani: rum & coke (hates rum otherwise) or a tequila sunrise

rhyza: coffee beers/stouts... or an irish coffee

azarys: sangria, pink gin, or a daiquiri 

june: always mojitos

[unclezuko]

smoke & sugar

(backstory for @orokay‘s lovely 1940s ladies baseball au! affectionately known as: the time myr visits her cousin sani at work & magic happens.)

the world is watercolor when myria closes up shop, oil on her cheek and jumpsuit sleeves rolled up to her elbows. she pushes her hair back and sighs, her hands stained and bruised where she wipes them on an ugly tea towel. she doesn’t hate her job, not really, at least. there’s something she loves about her work, a fondness born from old, broken bikes and her father’s film photographs, from the obnoxious lettering of war posters featuring women with sugar-sweet smiles. something that puts fuel in her heart and food on the table despite the aches and early mornings.

(but if she gets to visit sani between shifts, indulge in laughter and a coffee fix to chase the blooming headache, she doesn’t complain. not a word.)

sani leans over the counter conspiratorially, pushing a coffee into myria’s hands. “rough day?”

myria snorts and glares into its depths. “could be a hell of a lot worse.”

sani works afternoons at a little malt shop in town, serving sweets to rude locals with a patience that myria can only dream of. she’d spent hot days there before the war, trailing mud through the doors and treating her old team to milkshakes and leaving with pine needles and cigarette smoke in her hair, having been chewed out again by sani’s boss for trying to smoke inside.

there are times when she misses playing. the magic and the warm evenings and the cleats caked in dirt, how she’d dig her heels into the earth and just be. the darktown darlings were bad news and she’d known it from the start, knew it the way lovers know heartbreak when she spat a mouthful of blood and quit the team eight months later, nursing a split lip, and bruised ribs, and a wild sense of loss. betrayal. disbelief.

she wrinkles her nose. there isn’t a bone in her body that misses them.

they melt into comfortable silence, and she turns herself over to the hum of chatter and the sound of a preloved record player. she’s watching sani move between booths, charming customers and wiping soda spills when a person with honeyed hair and gold skin enters, puts an unlit cigarette between her teeth and leans over the counter to myr’s left. sani manages to keep steady conversation with myr while taking the newcomer’s order and preparing her drink, full of light laughter and rolled eyes and words thrown over her shoulder.

“watch it, tabris.”

“only if you promise not to sing.”

myria empties her mug and turns out her pockets, mutters, “shit, all out of gum” under her breath. before she can ask, the newcomer slides a pack of cheap gum across the counter, and myr breathes a “hey, thanks” in return.

by the time the stranger speaks, the words she says are enough to make myr’s hands pause. “the darlings, huh?”

myr raises an eyebrow and tears the stick of gum in half with her teeth, eyes narrowing as she chews. “what of it?”

the stranger smiles, reveals sharp eyes and sharper teeth. “call me arte.” she pauses to tuck the unlit cigarette behind her ear. if her last words made myr pause the next ones make her blood sing, loud & powerful with a spell she hadn’t known she’d forgotten. “the wicked graces could use a center fielder.”

sani grins when myr looks at her, and in the smallest motion tilts her head at the discarded bubblegum wrapper beneath myr’s hand, eyes alight.

myr smooths the wrapper down when her eyes are drawn to something there, in the folds of the side still dusted with pink sugar, written in smudged black ink. she looks up at arte who studies her between sips of her shake, all wordless intensity and the ghost of a smirk on her lips. her eyes dance in the dying light.

when myr smirks back, it’s deadly. she pops her gum.

“sign me up.”

(that night she dreams in nine innings, the memorized time and place on the wrapper returning the half-forgotten rush to her blood.)

[unclezuko]

myriani + posture/hands :D

posture

when it comes to posture myriani tends to stand w her back pretty straight, shoulders back with a wide assertive stance and her weight shifted over to one hip. when she sits though, she has a ridiculous habit of propping her feet up everywhere. on the war table at skyhold. on cullen’s papers. on solas’ notes. on another chair or the nearest person’s lap. her most comfortable sitting position is slouched down so far that her butt threatens to slide off the seat, arms crossed, legs either splayed out in front of her or (more often than not) kicked up + resting on the nearest elevated surface like the little shit she is, smh

hands

myriani’s hands are thin and small in appearance but marred and calloused by years of knife work and hand to hand combat. her nails are relatively sharp and sometimes-chipped and her knuckles are almost always bruised. she’s left-handed but loses that hand during the years she traveled with zev, and from then on wears a black leather glove over a mechanical prosthetic (will go into more detail about that under the cut if anyone’s interested!!)

myr and zev keep dangerous company following the events of DA:O when they go undercover and become practically dead to the world. they get involved with a nameless underground group from tevinter that sends myr on yet another mission, lengthy, dangerous, and alone this time (save a backup team that must interfere if things go wrong), where she’s responsible for collecting information by any means necessary. and oh man do things go absolutely wrong. shit hits the fan. her mission is compromised. someone talks, blows her cover, and the people who sent her don’t send backup. she’s held captive and receives awful treatment and ends up having to amputate her left hand in order to escape. from then on she wears the black leather glove that’s designed to fit over the mechanical hand that zev has commissioned for her, and must relearn how to write and throw knives with her left hand :~(

[unclezuko]

cheese + myriani

cheese

on one of their adventures traveling through orlais on business zev and myriani are assigned an undercover mission to participate in the game, but myr hates everything orlais. wrinkles her nose at all things orlesian as much as (if not more than) the next dude. or so she thinks, until she discovers orlesian cheese.

she’s talented when it comes to the game, a natural even but it bores her half to death, so she leaves zev with all the dirty work charming snooty, masked orlesian nobles and makes a near-permanent residence near the food table. she happens upon these heavenly, tiny cheese cubes and stashes like two handfuls of them in her pockets because she hates orlais and orlesian nobles and orlesian parties but god damn does she love their cheese.

(basically, not-so-local girl is bored by a game of lying, dancing, sex, and murder in favor of planting herself near the food table and smuggling handfuls of mini cheese cubes, pfft)

(send me a word + a character and i’ll respond with a headcanon!)

[orokay]

quick sketch of arte and myria the ultimate brotp @elfgrrl

[unclezuko]

neat update: Myria’s full name is Myriani. very few people know this & she’d like to keep it that way thank u very much

(i found this name in an article my french teacher gave us about international women’s day and it’s pretty and close to Myr’s so i thought hey why not)

[orokay]

some doodles done while in the @ladieswithbats group chat :’))

anthra is @arkvenor‘s, traesa is @sportivory‘s, and myr is @elfgrrl‘s