#sunxdusk

[eritvita]

continued from x ;

@sunxdusk

Simplicity in sketching comes Roland’s fine grounds to settle at the Bee and Barb for a hefty fed of a hot dinner and a tankard of honey-sweetened mead, taken to a cozy corner with his feet propped upon the table; his Notebook opened upon his lap and sketching lines and sacred shapes and portents into the margins with his sharpened piece of charcoal, eager and e’en thankful for this boastful entertainment of a bastard of a braggart to gain his poetical comeuppance.

He sips his drink for this leisure, cackling at fine hits and wincing whence vulnerabilities art so deeply bruised. So fine is this merrymaking dost Roland almost wag in throwing his hand to offer another round, befitting the pleasure of casual conversation and the beginning wisps of a new Friendship.

“Thou art welcome, fine stout!” crows he, and cackling within the wrinkles of Roland’s handsome eyes. “Marvelous endeavor to snatch that rude breath and to throw it gone. Good Evening!” comes he, keeping to his comfort and remained his legs upon his table. “Merry Meet and fantastical Moments! I am Roland,” offers he freely, and thus, offers his palm, soot-covered and smelling of papery linen. “Whom art thou?”

[nirnrootic]

continued from here.

“It is almost done. Hush.”

The afternoon warmth danced over bare skin and burrowed under fabric. It was balmy and cosy; if it wasn’t for his concentration, he might’ve felt the allure to simply bask in the sun’s smile to be nigh overwhelming.

Indeed, he was busy. Very important business, you see …

Erosandros’ deft fingers worked; weaving and twisting flaxen tresses, melding them with the stubby, narrow stalks of the white blossoms to form a pretty, floral garland in Briengr’s mane. He endeavoured to keep his touches light, his tugs gentle, by virtue of how Briengr wriggled and winced if he were any harder.

“If you ruin my work, I will snap your neck.”

Even though violence bloated his words, he smiled. There was no true intent lurking behind that light tone. He was well aware that the full moon anxiously awaited for night to fall; tonight, Hircine’s favour would ripple across the province, howls would fill the sky and bloodshed would darken the dirt. Those who were blessed by a city’s tall wreathe of wood and stone might even be oblivious this particular monthly occurrence—but anyone who travelled the roads, lived more nomadically, would be well aware: the lycanthropes would reign, tonight. They knew to fear these nights.

@sunxdusk.

[eritvita]

@sunxdusk;

Briengr stares at his friend in shock before throwing back his head, laughing and slapping his knee. “That? That is what you are embarrassed about, my sweet Breton?” He chortles, shoulders shaking, wiping away a mirthful tear. “Oh, Roland. You need not apologize for dreaming of your pleasures. It’s a natural thing!”

He huddles deeper inside his self-imposed nook, insolent in that flare of the embarrassed Crawl. “Gods Above and Below,” murmurs he, and hisses weakly:

“None for I of the immediate Curtain thrown off the Actors a’fore readily available! I am mortified! Thou didst see this in private stature and arching spine for the long throats!” If couldst the ground come to swallow his own belly with sharpened tooth and wet tongue, wouldst Roland dive down into those gurgling waters to hide himself most gratefully.

He sighs hard and rubs harshly at his face, the calluses upon his palms scraping audibly with that beginning-beard not yet shaved. “Twere naught the first Time of sparkling Aetherius come for moaning,” murmurs he in quiet sounds, and snorts he as like that great Stag.

[intothewildsea]

@sunxdusk liked for a starter.

Sometimes, Niamh like to travel a little further inland to explore, and that was how she came across a beautiful pool with a waterfall. There were some large, flat rocks near it - perfect for sunbathing - and she happily sprawled out on one.

No one was around, so she wasn't worried about being seen. She stripped off her clothes and pelt and lay them aside. The sun was warm on her freckled skin.

She rolled over onto her stomach and lay her head on her arms, contemplating taking a nap. The sound of the waterfall was soothing as well, adding to the relaxing atmosphere. She closed her eyes. Perhaps a short nap wouldn't hurt. Just a little one.

[eritvita]

Briengr grinned excitedly as he gently pulled the Roland by the wrist. "Surprise!" Briengr boomed as he narrowed his eyes against the sudden glare as they stepped out of an open doorway into the pristine garden. Water trickled in pools at its corners. A pleasant breeze made the flowers nod, stirred the leaves of the topiary, plucked specks of blossom from pink cherry trees, no doubt torn from their native soil, and brought across the sea. A magnificent sculpture towered over them amid cobbled space, carved from perfectly white, almost translucent marble. Dibella, lean and curvaceous, held her symbolic flower high above her head in offering. "I pulled some strings so that we'll have the garden all to ourselves for the day. No preening nobles. Just the two of us and your books and music. Happy Valentine's Day, Roland."

@sunxdusk

He blinks rapidly at this cunning Reality of the gardens, tempting and beautiful in this renown of mortal Beauty, and butterflies sprinkle ‘round the blooming flowers, and a blue darling flits near Roland’s face. He laughs brightly, his cheeks round and hurting from such joy, such touched glamour at this tender Gift of the whole party.

“Briengr,” breathes Roland, and the fluttering butterfly touches at the tip of Roland's nose. He laughs softly, and the puff of air dost borne the butterfly to fly, zinging ‘round his tousled head as like an aetheric Crown. “Thou art beautiful to me, sweet of face and sweet of red, proud, boisterous Heart.”

He reaches out to clasp Briengr’s hand, enfolding their fingers together affectionately. “I thank thee, lovely, lovely Warrior. Thus is wonderful,” breathes he, his eyes shining.

[persistentflower]

@sunxdusk :: ✿ What do you think about public call out posts?

✂ A fandom that you feel isn't open and accepting?

✉ A fandom that you feel is open and accepting?

( salty af munday meme )

✂ A fandom that you feel isn't open and accepting?

BG3 fandom unless you've followed/interacted w them before their BG3 verse or muse. I just feel like it's been very prevalent with the fandom. Even so, that's their personal decision of they wanna be like that.

✿ What do you think about public call out posts?

Not a fan, generally, unless there is good evidence to back up allegations. I know there are people who do that stuff just put of bitterness or will straight up pretend to be someone to slander them.

✉ A fandom that you feel is open and accepting?

Hate to say it, but I cannot think of one that's truly open and accepting as a whole. There's always going to be those who like to gatekeep or make it hard for others to enjoy things, but it's up to us to curate our spaces with people we vibe with. It can take a while, as it has with me, bit finding others you can connect with and share ideas without negativity with is so worth it.

[persistentflower]

CLOSED w @sunxdusk

Viollweydh treads through the woods under the moonlight beaming in through the leaves, bare feet softly hitting the cool forest floor.

This was routine for her -- a walk through the woods, foraging various herbs, flowers, and fungi for her potions, replanting seeds where she can so as not to disrupt the forest's harmony.

Heightened senses pick up the scent of a werewolf -- and its blood. She generally left werewolves alone, as most seemed to dislike her kind, but the blood has her curious. Were they hurt ? Did they need help ?

Cautiously she makes her way towards the smell. She sees an injured werewolf shifted to its mortal form -- a high elf, bleeding upon the forest floor, marks of destruction magic on his skin.

She was not the type to leave anyone helpless, so she walks over and picks him up -- easy with her given vampiric strength, but fairly awkward given the height difference.

It's a short walk back to her refurbished cave. She's greeted by her two wolf companions as she opens the door, letting them in along with she and the stranger. She sets him on her couch as she examines the wounds, running to and fro to clean and mix and apply treatments before she can finally sit down with a sigh at her chair facing the couch,. Now she just needed to wait, to see if he'd wake up.

She stands every now and then to check the stability of his breathing, her two wolves laying by the man, seeming to recognize the familiar scent of his blood.

It was up to him now.

[eritvita]

"You're not meant to look like that." ( because roland is too good and beautiful to be covered in blood )

@sunxdusk

Bandits; garbed in their tanned leathers and stolen bits of polished metal, wielding swords, axes, and long poles of iron and steel and broken knifes of fierce poverty.

The ruin is overgrown by the Wood as it comes in creeping vines and moss and lichen to come claim it, back again onto the black ground whence hast it berthed, and the Dremora Lord brandishes its ragged slice of a sword as it paces, soaked in blood and with torn bits of hair from its defensive fighting of those scavengers looking to garner quick coin. Roland is huddled upon a jutting stone, his elbows upon his knees, and his face held captive within his careful palms. His is soaked and splattered and dabbled with those slain bandits' blood, fresh as a daisy amidst Azura's enchanted paintings.

"Of how am I meant to look?" murmurs he, as he lifts his head and peeks through that curtain of roughened fingers. 

blood blood blood .