DO NOT PAINT ME BLACK WHEN I USED TO BE GOLD

indie adaar companion oc written by ala

[vvarhorned]

mienhxrel:

“ Please,  there’s no need to apologize ”,  Shianni assures her.   “ That sounds like it’d make anyone frustrated.   I understand. “

No longer feeling unwelcome,  and put at ease by the larger woman’s much friendlier attitude,  she swiftly returns the bow and makes herself comfortable in the chair beside her.   “ Rim “, she repeats the name to memorize it,  “ or should I call you Adaar?   You’re a mercenary and a scholar,  then? “

“A scholar more than a mercenary” she admits with a shrug and her easy Starkhaven drawl. A smile then and she laughs. “Well it’s a rather long story of how I became both” Rim added, settling back into her chair.

“Rim is more than fine, M’am.”

(she watched with interest as the other woman’s muscles loosened)

“And what should I call you in that case?” she then ventured.

[vvarhorned]

I’m back B)

[divintrix]

[symbolmemes]

Send ➺to find my muse badly wounded and bleeding after a battle.

[vvarhorned]

mienhxrel:

“I wasn’t aware that was a scholarly question.”

Maker, it was no wonder the mage had seemed so bothered by the question. Shianni had thought it would take one, maybe a few sentences to answer, a minute’s break from her reading at most — but it was clearly much more complicated than that if scholars had to figure it out.

She took an involuntary half-step backwards as the mage stood up, not out of fear but because otherwise she’d have to crane her neck uncomfortably — she was so tall. Her slight elven hand, which Shianni had never considered small by any standard, seemed a child’s hand in comparison to that of the qunari.

 “Shianni Tabris. Bann and Hahren of the Denerim Alienage. Pleased to meet you.”

“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me for my outburst then Bann Tabris--” Rim insists quieter then, releasing the woman’s hand carefully and bows her head slightly in greeting. “Rim Adaar, occasional companion to the Inquisitor, member of the Valo-Kas Mercenary Company” she settles back down in her seat and gestures vaguely to one of the other open chairs.

(oh rim now wishes she hadn’t been so cross)

“I apologize for the snapping, I just do get tired of the constant questioning about something I know so little about” she admits sheepishly then.

[thxqueenofmemes]

Reblog if; You RP with FEMALE OCs and do not stand for them being treated like shit

[vvarhorned]

mienhxrel:

“I’m sorry. I can leave —”

It’s not Shianni’s intention ( or desire ) to sound as  m e e k  as she does, but she can’t help it. Unlike her as that feeling is, she’s afraid — to offend, to bother, to do anything the other doesn’t like. The tension in her body at the sight of the qunari woman, the tightness in her chest, doesn’t go away because she wants it to. It’s been years since Kirkwall, but a part of her always feels as though it’s happening now.

“— I didn’t mean to judge you. I knew there was a difference, I just didn’t know how big. You know more than I do. Than I did.” The smile, slight as it is, reassures Shianni just a little. Afraid she may be, but she’s curious too. And BRAVE, damnit. “That’s a lot of things that — that you are.”

“I know as much as you do now” Rim replies in an almost bitter laugh. Her eyes crinkled around the edges and she gave the woman a smile finally. “Sorry, scholarly questions do get me rather fired up, and proper introductions have yet to be made, Lass.” she then says, standing and suddenly remembering her manners.

(she should remember that she still needs to be careful)

“Rim Adaar, previously of the Starkhaven Circle” she introduces finally, a hand extending to the woman now. From what she could gleam, the woman was not of Dalish Orgin, a city elf from Ferelden from the sound of it.

[jesslynshepard-deactivated20170]

if you don’t love me at my oc then you don’t deserve me at my canon.

[vvarhorned]

dcnetheimpossible:

killian’s hair has always been something of a weakness for her – the honey strands were kept long and wild, and had been since she was a child. for as long as she could remember, her favourite moments had been the quite moments when someone she cared for wove the messy locks into twisted braids, when the keeper tutted and tugged it back from her eyes, when illia slid flowers into place like a crown of some distant royalty, the braids uneven and loved.  it was different now. she’d learned to brush the long waves, braiding them into submission so she could look presentable for the diplomats and nobility that roamed her keep; there was nothing personal about the uniform twists. here, among friends, without responsibility and without expectations, she wore her hair down, hanging, wild, knotted, as tree roots in the forest, a wall of vines hanging down her back like she might grow thorns to protect herself. rim was gentle in her work, loosening the tangles her fingers found with precision, soft tugs and soothing pats very nearly knocking the inquisitor out. eye lids heavy, body warm from both the alcohol and the woman she’d curled into, it’s only the excitement and groans of her friends that keep killian awake, and even those struggle to cut through the fog that spreads from the tingles that run up and down her spine. perhaps she’s more tired than she thought, because it’s mere moments before her head lolls to the side, and soft, barely there snores begin to escape parted pink lips.

Rim finally has the heart to gingerly shake Killian awake. “Dear?” she ventured. Rim tucked some hair behind Killian’s ear and then smoothing her thumb over her cheek.

(she’d looked so at peace)

“Come on, I’ll walk you up to your room” Rim gingerly insisted as she helped ease the Inquisitor up.

[vvarhorned]

dcnetheimpossible:

     the warning does not go unnoticed, and although killian had no intention of changing her views, she can’t help but feel cowed. her gaze drops, for a moment, and her lips pull downward, just slightly – despite her position of leadership, she is soft, uncertain. much of her motivation came from helping people – the idea that this woman was so prepared to be questioned, to be hurt, it saddened her, and that sadness showed in the curve of her brows and the softness of her lips.      “ i find that humans have their own stereotypes and preconceived notions – i’ve heard quite a few comments about my own upbringing, as well as some particularly harsh names. “ she swallows thickly, and glances up, brow furrowed. “ please, if anyone — if anyone says anything negative about you, while you’re here in skyhold, don’t hesitate to tell me, ad i will talk to them. “

“If it’s anything to go by, you’re perhaps the kindest woman here, and it doesn’t matter that you have to be, Lass” Rim replied half jokingly.

(who she was talking to briefly escaped her mind)

“Sorry Miss Killian” the mage quickly corrected before straightening her stance, hands folded behind her back. Rim nodded her thanks before smiling gingerly. “What magic did you study in?” she ventured then.

[vvarhorned]

toliiberate:

‘ i always did question josie’s sense of style… her shirt is ridiculous. ’ looking back in the mirror, her frown returned. ‘ i don’t know. i think it would be bad in any color. it’s just… it’s horrid. why can’t i just wear my own clothes? what’s wro- ng with them? ’

“Everything about what is to come needs to be perfectly orchestrated, Lass” Rim replied, scratching out another sentence. 

(she wanted to finish her research before they left for the Capital, but she supposes its for naught)

Rim stood finally, taking a few steps forward to regard her wardrobe. “Did she give you other options?” Rim finally intoned, flicking a bit of the lace. “If not in the very least I believe I can alter this well enough for it to be... palpable.” she added kindly as she could manage.

[vvarhorned]

@mntlyet

“Ah Miss Montilyet--” Rim peeked into the office to make sure she was alone before pressing into the room. Rim had her hands gingerly folded behind her back, and gave a cautious smile.

(she was still rather intimidated by the ambassador)

Rim waited to be noticed before coming even further into the room. “I was curious on your take of the Rivain Seers?” she intoned. Her linked fingers behind her back squeezed one another. “And perhaps anything you can tell me of their practices if you’ve seen any of their ceremonies in action?” she added with an inquisitive lilt to her tone, trying not to seem too eager for the information.

[vvarhorned]

mienhxrel:

“I’m sorry —” Clearly this wasn’t the right time to ask. Or even the right thing to ask, or the right person — though no matter how much more suitable to answer he is, Shianni wouldn’t have asked the Iron Bull. He’s too… big. She KNOWS he doesn’t pose a threat to anyone in Skyhold, no more than any human or dwarf or elf; he seems friendly, and she’s been told he doesn’t mind answering questions. Yet somehow that’s the very thing that puts her off. The Iron Bull is friends with people here, and she wants to keep her distance.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading. It’s just, I don’t know anything about your people — about the qunari — and neither do most people here. It doesn’t seem right. I didn’t even know you’re Andrastian.”

“I don’t know anything about the Qunari in the terms that your asking” Rim replied with another sigh. She steepled her fingers together and took a deep breath.

(she needed to find the words for this, and they so easily evaded her when it came down to who were supposed to be her people)

Rim sat up a little straighter then, placing a bookmark between two pages. “I can’t help you in the way you want” she pressed. “There are intricacies that I can’t explain beyond: it’s a religion, but it’s also a race” Rim explained. Her muscles tightened and her eyes flicked over the covers of books in front of her.

“I’m a Marcher, a rebel mage, a scholar and a scientist. Andrastian” she managed a smile. “A very don’t judge a book by it’s cover scenario” a small laugh. “I understand you and everyone else have questions, but I have just as much as you do” she admits, resting her chin on a closed hand now.

[vvarhorned]

|| Open Starter

“The Starkhaven Circle was good to me if that is where your confusion lies” Rim replies simply, pulling white strands of hair back from her face with a lofty sigh. “I wasn’t one for spells if you must know, battling in of itself is tiring to me, so much mana usage, and having to channel it through a staff as well? It isn’t were my talents lie–” her drawl of Ferelden and Starkhaven is heavier as she speaks now.

(not that she hid were she was from)

“I do not even consider myself Vashoth, and even lesser do I consider myself Tal-Vashoth or Qunari, because I never even knew that life…. I am more Circle Mage than Mercenary even” she rattles aimlessly, glancing towards the book at her side again and throwing in more ingredients into the mortar.

“But explaining that is hardly easy, I’m sure you can understand?”

[memelovingbot]

if we’re mutuals don’t hesitate to ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

[ndagger]

temporary promo ! this is a highly selective rp blog for the elvhen goddess, andruil, from dragon age. one - liner / para / novella all welcome. some triggers may appear on this blog. please like or reblog if you’d be interesting in interacting!

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Do me a favor. Reblog this if you welcome the use of ask memes as icebreakers between characters that have never, or rarely, interacted before.