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@thatcatcyrus-blog
ugh jesus i haven’t been here in months. uhhh irl shit got real and i haven’t had the energy to RP anymore.
on the upside, i’ve started drawing again! so uuuhhhh i guess i’m going on indefinate hiatus. i don’t fuckin know. so art blog link is here if you wanna check it out.
bye.
((Hello peeps. Sorry I haven’t been active on this blog as of late. IRL shit’s been going on.))
“I am graceful.”
She takes her ax from her back again and props it upright against the ground, leaning on the handle as she puts a hand on her hip. She’ll need to clean the blade, anyway. There’s a bit of smugness to her grin, though, as she looks at the Khajiit.
“Ax fighting is about more than swinging your weight and the weight of your weapon around. It requires as much form as sword fighting. Balance. A good center of gravity.”
Her grin fades quickly, though. She stands upright and picks up her ax, focusing on wiping the blade clean on the sleeve of the shirt she wears under her armor.
“I cannot say that I have. You should not be hunting werewolves if you cannot keep your balance in the face of a brigand. You will die.”
His ears swivel back. “There was a root!” She raises an eyebrow, and he continues, “I blew someone up right in front of you! With lightning! How could a werewolf possibly survive that?” He sighs, stroking his temples. “Do you at least know anywhere a werewolf might be?
“Your form is terrible. I thought cats were meant to be more graceful.”
She grins at him, and stands up, rolling her shoulders back to shake off the tenseness after battle. The ground is puddled with blood and scattered with bodies and she made no hesitation to lift any gold from them. Her dagger is returned to it’s sheath as she turns to address him, scrutinizing him with her gaze.
“I could ask you the same, now couldn’t I?”
Cyrus shrugs, “Too much leg. Grace is for twigs who can’t swing a sword.” He gives up on making himself look presentable. He clears his throat. “I’m tracking a werewolf. Killed a man just outside of Falkreath, made a run for it.”
He produces a piece of parchment, signed by the Jarl. “You… haven’t happened to have seen one , have you?”
She secures her ax onto her back again and unsheathes a small, steel dagger from her belt. It’s time consuming, but she begins to kneel down and slit the throat of each fallen brigand. After all, it’s better safe than stabbed in the back because someone you thought was dead wasn’t. Her attention strays for a moment, looking back over her shoulder at her temporary companion.
“You uh. You fight well.”
Cyrus pulls another splinter out of his stinging palm, gritting his teeth as magic flows through his fingers. Ripped skin mends, and he kicks at the charred corpse at his feet.
“Uh, I exploded one guy and tripped. Thanks anyway though,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “So uh, what are you doing out here by yourself?”
i wanted to draw elves but i couldn’t manage a bun. so i drew templarsalad‘s redka.
((Howdy hey everybody. It’s been a busy three days for me, so I haven’t been active. I’m back home now though.))
Give my character a hypothetical situation.
Something along the lines of “What would you do if _______ happened?” or “How would you react to _______ dying?”
((Yo, my dash is empty and I've got no RPs going. Is anyone up for starting a thread? Nothing long, just something somewhat short and fun, let me get to know your muse.))
Send Me a symbol for how you feel
❊ I want to roleplay with you
✸ I want to plot with you
✤ I want to ship with you
✥ I have roleplayed with you and it was great
❦ I sort of secretly ship a thing with your muse(s)
✷ I wish our characters was friends
✢ I like your characters
✱ I don’t like your characters
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✫ I don’t like the way you express your muse(s)
☬ I feel like your characters are underdeveloped
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❋ Your blog is one of my favs
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* I want to learn to know you
# I’m too shy to approach to you
☓ We should talk!
♥ *Your choice what to write*
Give me a character, and my muse can only say one sentence about them
How Was Your Muse Created
Enter your name here, and post the results!
Bold everything your muse has done (caution: contains multiple common triggers)
Broken a bone | Gotten stitches | Had a near-death experience | Killed someone | Tried and failed to kill someone | Invented something | Been hungover | Kissed someone | Slow danced | Been in a long-term relationship | Had sex | Had sex and regretted it | Had a one-night stand | Had a threesome | Experimented with their sexuality | Had a kid | Gotten married | Self-harmed | Traveled to another country | Been in a play | Received an inheritance | Lost a loved one | Been dumped | Dumped someone | Smoked | Gotten high | Been slipped something in their food/drink | Won a contest | Won an election | Gone hunting | Been in a band | Had a job | Been in a wedding party | Owned a pet | Seen a ghost | Learned an instrument | Gotten a noticeable scar | Been robbed | Been mugged | Been kidnapped | Been sexually assaulted | Been brainwashed/hypnotized | Gone more than one day without eating | Had a recurring nightmare | Been bullied | Bullied someone | Seen someone die | Attempted suicide | Been tied/chained up | Stabbed someone | Saved someone’s life | Cheated on someone | Been cheated on | Had a stalker | Been betrayed | Been in a fight | Been arrested | Been to a funeral | Had surgery | Broken someone’s trust | Gotten a piercing | Gotten a tattoo | Used a fake name | Been tortured | Been abused | Been blackmailed | Had an attempt on their life | Gotten away with a crime | Gone on a road trip | Been in love
Send me "INTERRUPTION"
I’ll randomly generate a number from 1-31 to see how your muse interrupts mine! Mixture of safe & nsfw.
Keep reading
INTERRUPTION
Your muse distracts mine from cleaning the house
Redka whirled, brandishing a feather-duster (that looked remarkably like the neighbor’s chicken Hazel) and a look that could curdle fresh milk.
“I said shut up!” she hollered, whacking him in the gut with the feather-duster. “I’ve been cleaning this house all day long and all you can do is sit there and pester me! Do something productive, gods dammit! Go get groceries, or sweep the floor, or– or kill a man, I don’t care! Just leave me alone!”
She stamped her foot on the floor. That was to say, Cyrus’s floor.
“Keys are for losers,” she said, giving him an ugly look. “I picked the lock. And thanks for running off my feather duster, asswipe. Now I have to catch it all over again.”
She padded past him in casual pursuit of Hazel– but not without first slinging Wabbajack over her shoulder.
He grabs her shoulder, stopping her. “Please don’t- stop giving me that look.” She looks up at him, the scowl subsiding slightly, replaced by a hint of sadness. You are so fucking fake. He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Let me put on some fucking pants and we’ll go find the chicken.” Her scowl melts like ice in the sun, her grin spreading from ear to pointy ear. He trudges groggily up the stairs to his room, trying to banish her hungry eyes from his mind. Fucking demon creature.
INTERRUPTION
Your muse distracts mine from cleaning the house
Redka whirled, brandishing a feather-duster (that looked remarkably like the neighbor’s chicken Hazel) and a look that could curdle fresh milk.
“I said shut up!” she hollered, whacking him in the gut with the feather-duster. “I’ve been cleaning this house all day long and all you can do is sit there and pester me! Do something productive, gods dammit! Go get groceries, or sweep the floor, or– or kill a man, I don’t care! Just leave me alone!”
She stamped her foot on the floor. That was to say, Cyrus’s floor.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU- IS THAT A CHICKEN!?” Cyrus snatches the squawking “featther duster” from the short elf. It pecks at his fingers, and he yells, dropping it on the floor. It’s out of the room in seconds, leaving them alone in the living room. Cyrus rubs his temples. “It’s three in the morning… why the fuck are you dusting the living room with a ch- WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE!? YOU DON’T HAVE A KEY!”
“Fetch this, Fetch that” (Closed)
At the sight of him sheathing his sword, she relaxes and allows herself to put the ring into a pocket where it will be safe. She’s spent too much time hunting for the bloody thing for it to disappear now. Then she raises an eyebrow. If this is a cover story it’s clumsy at best. And the other sounds genuine. Could be a trick though, she’s not good at reading Khajiit facial expressions.
“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. Try terrible.” She grumbles, keeping an eye on the other as she tries to rub off the spider-goo on her arms with her hands.
“Let me lay this out as I see it. One, you’re well armed. Wise, but also hints you’re expecting a fight. I recognize good armor when I see it. Good, but pricey. Your equipment is essential to what you do. Two, you entered the cave, despite the large cobwebs outside. You knew the danger, yet you dared to brave it.”
“You’re searching for something.”
“Mercenary…” She narrows her eyes, takes in his full appearance, “maybe.” She taps her blade in thought, tilts her head to the side and adds, more to herself than the other, “No, not a bandit. Bandits’ are cowards. Wouldn’t be caught alone.”
After giving her verdict, she smiles, disarmingly, before throwing out an arm as to show off the dead arachnids. “I’m afraid I’ve already rid the cave of spiders, but do go ahead and claim the honor. At least one of us’ll be paid for it then.”
He rubs his temples for a moment, before speaking. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. I’m lost as fuck because of a shitty map, and I saw your horse outside, so I came in to try and find you... which is kind of a shitty idea in hindsight, but that’s beside the point. And this,” he says, gesturing to his armor, “isn’t for robbing. And I’m not a mercenary.”
The woman raises her eyebrows. He rubs the back of his neck, looking down at his boots. “It’s uhhh... for killing... dragons ‘n shit.”
