WIP: Someone asked for Cyrus wearing ‘bitch bottom’ shorts…
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Ralon was beaming well before Cyrus even made his big reveal. “I can. You made a bet you could never win, Prickles. Now suffer the consequences.”
The man’s groan drifted out from behind the door. “You always strike out. It was a fucking guarantee, and somehow…”
“Well, you lost. Fair’s fair.” Ralon cleared his throat, reclining on the couch, arms stretched along the backrest to either side. “Want me to count you in? Put on some sexy music.”
...Is it too late to send a protective prompt? -sneakily slides “Take my hand, I got you.” for Varlen and Riven over toward you-
Never too late for the Thedas Wondertwins! In which Varlen loves to act brave and drag his sister into easily avoidable nonsense for the sake of adventure. Takes place pre-Conclave.
Riven, of course, belongs to the lovely @chaitea09
“Take my hand, I got you.” Varlen’s back was pressed to the wall of the cliff. Sure, they could take the long way around… but who ever wanted to take the long way anywhere?
From solid ground, Riven eyed the ledge warily. “This… doesn’t seem like the best idea, ma’lin. It rained last night. The rocks might still be slippery.”
Varlen made a distinctly childish noise; a whine he had perfected in his youth and only ever used when alone with his sister. “Aw, come on. We left the clan to go on an adventure, right?”
“Well, actually—”
—“Adventure, Riv.” Varlen grinned and extended his hand to her again, shuffling a little closer. Loose pebbles shifted beneath his feet, skittering down the face of the cliff. It was impossible to hear the sound of them meeting the water below over the whistling wind. “We won’t fall, promise!”
It was always interesting, watching Riven come to a decision that she knew was not the wisest. Sometimes, Varlen swore he saw his sister race through the five stages of grieving in the span of a few seconds when speaking to him, but when acceptance finally arrived he laughed in delight as she reached out and took his hand. Slowly, carefully, she stepped out onto the ledge beside him. Their scarves fluttered in the wind as they pressed their backs to the cold stone. Taking a moment to breathe, the twins stood there for a few beats, adjusting to the sensation of walking a ledge so narrow it felt almost like floating.
Eventually, Varlen looked at his sister and grinned giddily. “There, see? Not so bad!”
Riven cast him a swift sidelong glance. “If I don’t look down, perhaps.” Seeming a bit more comfortable now that she had committed to the task, she started slowly letting go of Varlen’s hand.
Intent on proving his point with unnecessary bravado, Varlen took it upon himself to scoff and lean forward slightly, gazing directly down. “Oh c’mon, it’s not that…”
The cliff yawned before him, slicing a straight path towards the earth as though sheered by a god’s knife during the Creation. At its base, barely shrouded by the spray of salt and mist, water broke on jagged rocks, white peaks clawing their way up the stone, dragging pieces of it from the cliff wall as they crashed back into the sea.
Varlen’s mouth went dry. Without thinking, he scrabbled slightly along the wall, catching Riven’s hand again before she had a chance to move too far away. At the contact, she gave him a quizzical look.
“Uh… I mean… safety first, right?” A nervous laugh bubbled up from Varlen’s chest, then he cleared his throat and nodded in his best no-nonsense way. Fake it until you make it, Varlen. That’s what… well, someone used to say. Maybe. “Alright. Easy does it, Riv. Nice and slow. No looking down, okay?”
“I won’t.”
“No slipping, either.”
“Naturally.”
“And, um, no letting go. For safety… reasons.”
Even though his attention was now focused solely on their destination at the cliff’s far side, Varlen swore he could hear the shape of a smile on Riven’s lips as she gave his hand a soft, reassuring squeeze.
So tranquil!Dorian was unneeded (beautiful angst) and ouch how dare you but also thank you for that beautiful angst omfg my heart I'm crying ouch ;A; (I love the angst even though I'm dying on the inside from it lmao)
Glad to know I’m not the only angst-lover masochist in town 8D ♥
Send my OC a topic and they’ll give their opinion on it!
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to give a long, heartfelt confession?” Rei asks flatly. “Or perhaps where I talk about passion and commitment?”
She crosses her arms, and when she speaks again the words are terse. “Love is… an unreliable thing. People will call anything love if they’re desperate enough. But I think…” She hesitates. “I think it’s not about a feeling, but about what you would do for someone – if you would do what’s best for them rather than what makes you feel the happiest.”
<33 I read hopes as the dreams-kinda-hopes? Sorry if that wasn’t what you were thinking.
Thyme’s major hope is that he’ll be able to one day to go back home. The forest by his house has sort-of magically barred him from living there, and he’s been in a sort-of self-imposed exile. He dearly misses his silly werewolf family and he’d love to see them again back at their home. He also hopes the ghost cat of Small Hours doesn’t come near him during the next Icarus meeting. He’s weirdly allergic to it, despite lack of fur and all. He has no idea why.
Kingcup hopes she’ll be able to use magic one day. Magic, or dissecting magical priorities and knowledge, was her first love and that is a certain void in her life without. She knows the better option is probably to find a new love, something that can fill the void. But, no. She wants magic back. She also hopes the super cute waitress at Small Hours will finnnallllly accept her friend request soon but Volkamenia isn’t big on social media so sorry, Kingcup! Maybe in six months, she’ll notice and accept it.
And Oleander. Oh, that kid hopes. He just hopes. He hopes he’ll find the pieces of his past and they don’t spell out his worst nightmares. He hopes for love and a love who will respect him and his boundaries. He hopes Small Hours will get the good mozzarella sticks back and they’ll still be as good as they once were. He hopes he’ll get to kiss Thyme’s nerdy face one day but only if Thyme will kiss him back. He hopes Kingcup will to do the impossible and find her magic again. He hopes Daed won’t leave him. He… He just hopes. It helps get him through it all so fuck it. He’ll hope!
As someone who is healthily (-coughs- unhealthily -coughs-) obsessed with SWTOR and has a totally reasonable (-coughs- ungodly -coughs-) amount of characters on there, I'm quite interested in knowing what you think of the game. xD Also I'm curious as to what server you play on, if you don't mind me asking obvs? o:
It’s not bad. It definitely brings me back to my Knights of the Old Republic days (the single-player game) which I was obsessed with as a kid. I like that you have your own class storyline, although some are definitely better than others. The fact that all the classes are fully voice-acted is also cool, even if some of the voice acting is not great. The multiplayer side of things is still a bit of a mystery to me beyond questing with a buddy and sitting through cinematics for each other’s class storylines. I will say the game is very unfriendly to new players, with many mechanics not being particularly intuitive. But with a game that has been out as long as SWTOR has, that is to be expected.
Galen, trying to seduce any of your characters: [tries to lean against something seductively 'cause he read that in a romance book but leans too far and falls over]
Hahah this would probably work on Ralon, Varlen, Lyrene, and Maraas. The others would probably either just laugh or go help him up!
