had the idea of phainon, post-amphoreus, having been so affected by the hundreds of years he sat waiting for us in khaslana form that despite changing back to normal phainon form, his eyes never fully went back to normal. I’m thinking along the lines of central heterochromia that looks like little suns in his eyes, with the middles golden and outer parts still his normal phainon blue. or it could be something where like only in direct sunlight can you see the sun-shaped remnants of his golden eyes or something.
For the Fade Server's first collaboration event. I was partnered with the lovely @bionicgrapejuice who'll be sharing her art soon too. Rook here is her Delilah Ingellvar 🥰
Mature. 4,385 words
Summary:
Emmrich found himself hesitating. What could he say to her?
It was, perhaps, too forward of him to even do this, to pen his admiration in written word then retch it at her feet — too much, too sudden, indelicate and indecent. He had not been meant to see the drawing, and an ugly feeling akin to guilt gnawed in his gut. He had placed it back, tucked it right under the same book at the same angle, and then ran to his room as if he were afraid of being caught. And now, his quill lingered too long on the paper and the ink fell in droplets, obscuring her name.
The ink ran, then dried, unfurling like petals.
Petals. An epiphany.
—
Or, Emmrich leaves flowers for Rook.
Preview under the cut
The lunaria, native to Antiva. In late spring, it was a four-petaled flower, deep purple with small white centers that eventually gave way to coin-like paper-thin silver silques, fruits, like tiny moons against the mid-summer heat. While the fruits were prized in Antiva for both its unique appearance and alleged truth producing properties — Emmrich would not comment on the veracity of that claim, he was not quite as skilled a poisoner as he was a scholar — he was much more fond of the purple blooms themselves. Soft to the touch with a subtle, sweet smell, it was meant to convey honesty and admiration, both of which he had in abundance for the object of his affection.
The second flower — a jasmine, deeply fragrant with bright yellow petals and glossy lance-like leaves. A common enough bloom, trailing across many a wall and fence of homes in northern Thedas. But there was beauty in its ubiquity, hiding in plain sight, truly blossoming for those that cared to stop and admire them if only for a moment. His affection was obvious, Emmrich thought, common perhaps, but timid still in what must be a sea of Delilah's admirers.
It was a humble little offering — a pair of blooms, tied together by a thin red string, spelled ever so lightly to stay fresh just a little longer. It occurred to him then, as he traversed that short corridor between his room and hers, that perhaps Delilah had no interest in floriography in the slightest.
If she did not, then these were simply beautiful flowers to adorn her room for a week or two.
But if she did — she would understand his message: shy admiration, a hand outstretched in timidity and hopeful affection. Perhaps, if Emmrich allowed himself to dream, she would respond in kind.
had a dream last night about disassembling hot robot people while their systems were still active so they could feel every second of it. its hard to describe what exactly was so hot about it but it truly was one of the hottest dreams ive ever had jesus fucking christ
