![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
st_illunsmearedDate: June 10
Jack and Phryne have a picnic, poetry, and passion.
[Here | pg-13 | ftb | mush and fluff]
Jack and Phryne have a picnic, poetry, and passion.
[Here | pg-13 | ftb | mush and fluff]
Jun. 10th, 2017
st_illunsmeared
st_ingofthehundredKash and Angua collide with dubious results. Backdated to early June because I suck.
( Could've just said you wanted to wild-shape. )
( Could've just said you wanted to wild-shape. )
EP - The Sweetest Blood Mage - OTA
Jun. 10th, 2017 02:05 pmst_illsabraeMerrill knew where a handful of things were for sure. Her room. The kitchens. Anders' room. Rey's. The café. The pool.
Everything else was basically a coin toss, something interesting she'd found and then probably never see again. It was how she'd treated Kirkwall for the most part.
The day was lovely and sunny in a way Kirkwall rarely was. She sat int the middle of a manicured field, eyes closed as she sprouted flowers around her instead of just hacked off grass. She hadn't ever been shy about her magic. What was the point? People saw her vallaslin and assumed anyway even if she didn't have her staff on her.
This place was alive and healthy as far as she could tell. She wasn't a healer. She'd have to ask Anders and that would be a battle in and of itself.
She wanted to work on connecting better with this place, on figuring out what it wanted. If she knew what it wanted, maybe they could all get back home and she and Anders could help Hawke and the rest of the world. She didn't want Anders to get to the point where his hope started decaying and there was nothing any of them they could do about it.
Maybe... Maybe somehow she could figure it out...
Everything else was basically a coin toss, something interesting she'd found and then probably never see again. It was how she'd treated Kirkwall for the most part.
The day was lovely and sunny in a way Kirkwall rarely was. She sat int the middle of a manicured field, eyes closed as she sprouted flowers around her instead of just hacked off grass. She hadn't ever been shy about her magic. What was the point? People saw her vallaslin and assumed anyway even if she didn't have her staff on her.
This place was alive and healthy as far as she could tell. She wasn't a healer. She'd have to ask Anders and that would be a battle in and of itself.
She wanted to work on connecting better with this place, on figuring out what it wanted. If she knew what it wanted, maybe they could all get back home and she and Anders could help Hawke and the rest of the world. She didn't want Anders to get to the point where his hope started decaying and there was nothing any of them they could do about it.
Maybe... Maybe somehow she could figure it out...
EP - Wine & Brooding (OTA)
Jun. 10th, 2017 02:09 pmst_olenlifeThe wine here was nothing like Antivan wine. Not even as good as bad Antivan wine. Fenris had already decided that it was not worthy of a glass, and drank straight from the bottle instead. He sat in a chair near the bar, and despite the fact that he was drunk, his body seemed unerringly alert to his surroundings.
He had reason to drink, he thought. More reason than usual, even, and it was not unusual for him to use wine to force himself into sleep at night. He had fallen asleep with Isabela once, and after she had woken him from a nightmare and asked him about it after, he had ensured that they did not share a bed for more than sex again.
But now - he was trapped in this place, and felt it chafing at him like bonds. Caged again. And no idea what might have caused it, aside from knowing it must be magic, and that chafed even more. There was also the matter of the wound on his thigh, which he had wrapped and attempted to tend to on his own, but its current state suggested that he should swallow his pride and suspicion and see a healer here.
For now, however, wine.
Alert as always, when he heard footsteps he went rigid and whipped his head towards the potential threat, bottle still in hand.
He had reason to drink, he thought. More reason than usual, even, and it was not unusual for him to use wine to force himself into sleep at night. He had fallen asleep with Isabela once, and after she had woken him from a nightmare and asked him about it after, he had ensured that they did not share a bed for more than sex again.
But now - he was trapped in this place, and felt it chafing at him like bonds. Caged again. And no idea what might have caused it, aside from knowing it must be magic, and that chafed even more. There was also the matter of the wound on his thigh, which he had wrapped and attempted to tend to on his own, but its current state suggested that he should swallow his pride and suspicion and see a healer here.
For now, however, wine.
Alert as always, when he heard footsteps he went rigid and whipped his head towards the potential threat, bottle still in hand.