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 When The Lights Go Out, Robert/Fenris
Freya Eroan
 Posted: Dec 14 2017, 09:21 PM
Quote
Freya Eroan
27 YEARS OLD
She/Her
Rogue
11
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Shadow
Thief
Junos
She/Her - Eastern


9 Firstfall, 9:27

The cold, salty air bites her skin as she slides down from the window and into the street. It is dark out, the cloudy sky casting long shadows before the moon. She waits for a moment with breath puffing in small, measured wisps of smoke, to listen for movement. Her temporary escape has gone unnoticed, at least for now, and with that she slips into the welcoming night. The streets are sparsely populated between the hour and the temperature, and those left huddle in groups beneath the dim light of tall lanterns. Avoiding the glow from the flames as much as she could, there is no way to stop the reflective, feral glint of her eyes in the darkness. A couple she passes gasp in surprise, but thankfully do not decide to pursue. She does not want to return any sooner than she needed to, even if her spent body wailed in want of a long sleep.

The young child's muscles are sore, skin haunted by the ghosts of unwanted hands touching and squeezing and scratching. Invisible insects skitter up her spine and squirm in her stomach, a shiver making her tremble as the subsequent disgust threatens to make her vomit. She needed a distraction, one that would free her of the pain that lingers in throbs. A slip of warmth spreads down her cheek, and with a hand she reaches up to smear the blood away from the corner of her mouth. Deciding which was worse, him or his dogs, was not an easy call to make--even with the sharp ache from the punctures on her face prodding a headache into being. The cold was helping to numb everything but the flow of her thoughts. If anything, without the discomfort the images and memories became easier to focus on.

Eventually she stops beside an unknown building, arms wrapped tightly around herself and hands tucked up under her armpits. She's shivering, teeth clacking together as she is not dressed for the weather, but anything is better than being there to stew in the aftermath.

Faceless strangers have faded indoors now, escaping the cold that claws at their heels. However, up ahead there is a man walking past her all by himself, and this catches her attention. Glancing around, making sure the streets were clear of anyone that would see, she begins to slink toward him. His features were hidden in the gloom, not that they mattered to her, though she might have reconsidered it had she known that he was like her. A small hand deftly reaches up to see what he might have in his pockets--taking no time to calculate that maybe her desperation to be distracted might have forced her to act impulsively. Perhaps he had a few coins that she could use to buy something warm to drink.

Rogue Speak Think Colour


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Fenris
 Posted: Dec 15 2017, 04:00 AM
Quote
Fenris
34 YEARS OLD
he/him
Warrior
40
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Tevinter Fugitive
Mercenary
Robert
he/him - CST


Hesitantly bare feet stepped silently over the smooth stone of the city’s pathways as that pale gaze flickered over the sparse beings that plagued the streets. While there were far less prying eyes that wandering during this hour it only seemed to call forth those of ill repute. Drawing those shiftier beings from the shadows as their attentions lingered upon any they may have thought a target for whatever their purposes may be. Whatever it was he could not imagine their desires pleasant and so it is their eyes the marked slave attempts never to meet. For so long as they remained at a distance then perhaps they would find no purpose to venture toward one who ventured from a master’s side.

A dog sent out to play fetch for the man despite the thoughts that such a thing could have waited for the sun to rise. Yet it is a magister’s insistence which threw him out this night where the natural light of the moon lay partially hidden away by the stretching clouds as they reached over the skies. Leaving only the warm glow of lantern light to illuminate the city’s walkways though such coverage did not truly matter. Reflective eyes peering out against those dimly light streets as the faint light caught a glint against them with each passing glance. That strange chill not foreign to the elf as it brushed against bared flesh though he would not call it pleasant at this hour.

The warmth of the land stolen away by the falling sun to leave only the cool caress of night. But the shifting weather was not what held upon the lyrium ghost’s mind as it was masked and pushed away by the rising sense of dread. Pale gaze dancing between any rise of noise from those few that stood nearby and yet it was not they he searched for as a gaze pulled away as quickly as it was given. Leave them to their own doings and perhaps they would do the same. And yet it is a thought proven wrong as gentle steps pulled across the ground, fingers ghosting against him and drove the urges of a frightened animal.

Veins of lyrium sparking to life briefly as fingers fell to curl around the wrist of whoever it was that reached for him. Bright eyes peering through the shadowed land upon the elven girl before an audibly shaken breath blew from the slave’s lungs. This was no threat to him or at least he did not see her as one any longer as attentions briefly shifted over those features. That grasp quickly releasing her before shifting just out of reach, lyrics finding a reason to rise against her as if it alone would dissuade her from attempting to look further. “You are looking in the wrong place.”

Or rather the wrong body for he did not carry the belongings of the magister he was tied to. There was no reason to trust a dog with such possessions less there was a delivery to be made. And even then it was usually at the side of another or guidance to what was already paid for in advance. If only to ensure that nothing happened in securing that precious property. Feet shifted uncomfortably against the ground yet did nothing to bring him further from the young elf. Instead a voice rising once more in far steadier tones even as they nearly repeated phrases already spoken, “There is nothing for you to take.” Nothing left for anyone to steal away that a master had not already done himself.

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Freya Eroan
 Posted: Dec 16 2017, 01:14 AM
Quote
Freya Eroan
27 YEARS OLD
She/Her
Rogue
11
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Shadow
Thief
Junos
She/Her - Eastern


9 Firstfall, 9:27

Freya cannot stop the sharp intake of breath when the man's hand closes around her wrist. It's a hiss through her nostrils, an audible sense of fear that strikes through her at being caught. Instinctively she leans backward, getting ready to have to throw back her weight to free herself when he simply lets go. Golden eyes blink owlishly in the darkness, and as he turns she catches the glint of his eyes and sees the long, narrow points of his ears. The child winces openly, hands pulling close to her body while her feet seek to put a step or two of distance between them. The taller elf informs her that there is nothing to steal on his person, and this she does not doubt. Slaves (what an awful word to think of themselves) were not trusted with any of their master's worldly possessions, or any of their own for that matter. Their lives did not hold enough value for that.

Pursing her lips against the cold, she lets her eyes drift over him. Older, obviously, and not well off just like herself. However, there is a stark difference between them that is marked into his very skin. Having just come from the Dales not two years ago, she recalled the traditional facial tattoos of her people. What he possessed was not that, not at all, and instead of making her think of home, it rent her insides with anxiety. Still, she was curious, and felt the need to do... something in apology for her attempt at robbing one of her own race.

"Abelas, alin" She apologizes, entirely unsure if he even speaks the language. A pause slips into her words, eyes darting inquisitively about his face at the marks that branch out like the limbs of a pale, dying tree. "Have you been here a long time?" Hesitation to abandon this absent-minded night raid creeps into her system, fearing that he might reprimand her or attempt to escort her back to the home of her master. In an effort to refute this, she tries conversation, and stays well within his arm's reach like she is not afraid of being grabbed and turned in. Her breath stutters out in clouds, hands rubbing over her arms to ward off the numbness settling there. "Do you know someplace warm?" Assuming that he's been here longer than she, she hopes that he has someplace she could go. If not, she would find somewhere, as she was good into places she wasn't supposed to be in.

There is a sense of urgency in the way that she shuffles her tiny feet, looking about like she expects a guard, or some other authority, to appear at any moment. So like the mind of a child to think themselves under a spotlight once they do something wrong.

Rogue Speak Think Colour

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Fenris
 Posted: Dec 18 2017, 01:45 AM
Quote
Fenris
34 YEARS OLD
he/him
Warrior
40
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Tevinter Fugitive
Mercenary
Robert
he/him - CST


Ears flick up at the sharp intake of breath which pulls through the stranger’s features no doubt a start from being caught in her attempted threat. Yet it is in that and the fearful gleam in those eyes which almost make the lyrium ghost feel guilty for doing what he had. For she was seemingly just as shaken as he as those golden eyes peered back toward his own in their own mix of terrors. A weight felt against his palm in the short moment he had held on to her though it is a grasp quickly released. The young girl shrinking back ever further as limbs pulled closer to her body and feet shuffled back as he too shifted to put space between them.

Yet it was never enough to drift far as they both remained within an arm’s reach, as if reluctant to hurry on their own ways. A mixture of curiosity and fear holding them in place as reflective gaze danced over the features of the unknown party. Hers lingering upon the exposed marks that lay branded within his flesh while his simply held to her face as if waiting for her to make another move despite the insistence that he held nothing. Though it soon become clear that this child held no further intent of doing such as a foreign tongue fills the space between them.

Confusion drawing over the marked one’s features and yet he says nothing to question them. Merely accepting whatever it was she felt the need to say for all he knew it was insult even if the tones did not suggest such a thing. Brief pause seizing her vocals as those attentions wander once more about him with a look that only causes the elf to hold a sinking feeling within himself. That gaze studying those branching marks even as nothing finds her tongue about them. Instead it is a different question entirely, one that the ivory haired man knows he does not have a truthful answer to.

For a past was foggy and lay forgotten, only the most recent years of life holding to his thoughts. And yet he does not leave the girl to wonder in silence for long as a voice finally breaks free, “I don’t know.” Phrases given plainly even if it was a safe assumption to make that he had been her for a long while. Though it is not what leaves him as if fearful of giving an answer that may be incorrect or seen as a lie even when no one else seemed to be around to hear it. “This is all I am familiar with so, I suppose.” Hand rose in vague gesture as he spoke unwilling to remain still though never reaching for her no matter how close she stood.

Pale gaze looked on as the girl’s hands shifted to rub against her arms. A hesitation finding him as attentions flickered briefly over their surroundings before chiming up once more. “No, at least not a place we are welcomed for long.” At least not without a master at their side or the watchful eye of another assigned to them. His own breath fell in a false smoke as a slow breath pushed from his lungs. Focus eventually returning to the chilled elf before him as if he was about to regret what he said yet still it falls from his tongue, “I am fetching something for my master. You are welcome to join me if you wish.” At least then she could step inside the warmth the building would no doubt hold.

Fenris could only hope that should it be accepted that she would not cause trouble for him in the process. Breath blew from the ghost as fingers are reluctantly offered toward her as a nervous gaze drifted over the space around them for he was unwilling to remain in place for much longer and prolong the task at hand. He needed to get to the being who supposed waiting for his arrival even at this hour. An assurance given by the magister when he had seen the question that lay behind his eyes. Though before she could even reach out subconsciously fingers curled as if to hide away the pale scarring that trailed even there.

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Freya Eroan
 Posted: Dec 18 2017, 10:39 PM
Quote
Freya Eroan
27 YEARS OLD
She/Her
Rogue
11
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Shadow
Thief
Junos
She/Her - Eastern


Ever since her enslavement, seeing her own kind have become matters of chance. Where she was once surrounded by elves, few now remain within a non-lethal reach. Being caught speaking to someone else, especially if it was known that they were unfamiliar to one another and did not share a master, would be grounds for punishment that no one wanted to risk. But, the two of them were obviously curious about one another, and in the cover of darkness both thought it safe enough to speak in hushed tones. Freya desires to retreat and cling to his presence all at once, though she keeps her hands tangled together. It has been years since she has been shown even a modicum of kindness by a stranger, and this she wishes to elongate for however long she can mange.

A young mind grasps for memories of her clan to help curb the loneliness that tries to settle within, memories of the woods and the warmth of her family. She remembers her younger brother most of all, and being torn away from him when they entered the walls of this wretched city. Unexplained guilt constricts around her heart, bringing about a painful ache in her chest that she attempts to alleviate by rubbing her sternum with the heel of her hand.

Disappointment drifts into her expression as confusion becomes apparent on his at her apology. Was he, too, torn away from his homeland as a babe? She is but a child, but she feels sad for this man in a way she cannot quite put into words. Her ears droop a bit when his reply confirms this, sounding uncertain of his position. Fingers clench into fists against her sides, having tucked them up against her body to warm them while fighting the sorrow that wishes to cloud her thoughts. What poor things, shown so much cruelty and malice at such a young age. At least she had fond recollections to return to when the despair became too much, but what did this man have? Maybe nothing. A terrifying notion, to be sure.

"Oh." Comes the simple answer, pointed ears pulling back as her gaze begins to drift in search of what she sought. The lack of heat was getting to her as numbness set in, small body trembling in the wake of a chilly breeze. Attention is grabbed once more as he makes her an offer that, in this moment, she will not refuse. "Yes, I would like that." Looking visibly brighter, she shifts to move and take his outstretched hand--but watches with knit brows as his fingers curl inward as if to shrink back. The marks crawl across the back of his palms, but regardless of their origin the elf seeks to wind her grip in with his. She is so cold that the dull warmth of his skin was enough to make her linger in his space, curious golden eyes continually glancing at his hand, neck, and any other visibly marked area on his person. The urge to ask him about them is overwhelming, yet remains respectful in the shadow of her previous slight against him.

"What's your name?" She asks after a few silent moments of walking, peering up as she spoke. By now her cheeks have numbed enough that the throbbing pain caused by the fangs of the dogs has all but stopped, the blood drying into the start of scabs. Quite suddenly, she recalls the look on his features when she had tried to say sorry earlier, "Ah, and I am sorry for trying to steal from you. That is what I said before: sorry." The child wishes to offer her condolences, though she is unsure of if he'd ever experienced the language at all. If he hadn't lost it, he would not regret its absence, yes? Perhaps it was not that simple, even if her youthful mind made it seem that way.

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Fenris
 Posted: Dec 22 2017, 03:23 PM
Quote
Fenris
34 YEARS OLD
he/him
Warrior
40
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Tevinter Fugitive
Mercenary
Robert
he/him - CST


Attentions drifted from the other before that mark of disappointment could find its way across her features and yet still a dog held on to certainty that they had appeared. It seemed an emotion held by many with any sign of short coming or in answers believed not good enough, feelings coming to rise for one reason or another even if it was not always made clear. Though it is in the gentle pull of the girl’s voice which draws focus back. Keeping watchful sights from drifting over the night which surrounded them as gleaming eyes reflected what little light they caught.

But as attention fell upon her the ghost’s ears flick to mirror her own such expression only working to confirm the thoughts that had already laced so thoroughly within his mind. However, what exactly had caused this to surface upon those features did not reach him. It did not scream out as clearly as a magister’s lashing tongue or from any actually seen as a worthwhile civilian within this land. The girl keeping thoughts to herself as only that single phrase fell against the air. An unsteady gaze holding upon her then as if unsure what he truly wished to do now, merely watching the way she shivers in the cool air before an offer falls from his lips.

Regret near instantly brewing within at the moment such things escape and yet he makes no efforts to steal it away so quickly. A hand reluctantly pushing forward as he held on to doubts that she would actually wish to linger at his side, assist in a task that was not her own. And yet it is a bit of a surprise when acceptance is what strays from the younger elf, that smaller hand working to slide against his own. A touch he nearly wishes to draw away from as brief sparks of discomfort shift through those branching veins of lyrium.

Though he allows it to remain for this had been offered of his own will and that would not be stolen away. No matter the feelings of regret or hesitations which rose ever further in a frantic mind. Fingers carefully curling around her own as pale eyes catch the way even she stares at the unnatural brands which decorated his skin. Forever dancing over those foreign marks even as a tongue remained silent. At least until a figure drifts, hovering uncomfortably close as the unnerving coldness of those features did what they could to pull away what body heat was provided from his own form.

Shifting a bit away the marked elf does what he can to keep such close steps from diverting a path or causing either of them to stumble in her desire for warmth. Nothing but the gentle hum of lyrium filling the silence as they moved carefully through the city. A dog’s focus remaining on the task at hand until those lyrics reach against the air from the one at his side. And while attention does not shift from the street they walked a voice falls quietly as if fearful of another hearing it, “Fenris.” A name bestowed by the one who held his leash and yet it was what was known. Curiosity holding him then as tones nearly as silent as the first question her in return, “What is yours?”

Yet it is not what comes first as her voice suddenly breaks free once more. Pale gaze flickering down toward the elven girl as steps slowed for but a moment as attentions held to where she clung so near. Wondering just what had sparked the desire to translate such phrases for him now. But such question does not come as his own fall in falsely steady tones as if words alone would be enough to assure the child that no harm had come from her actions. No matter the uneasy expression each had worn at the time, frightened at the possibilities of what may have happened though he attempts to not let it reflect in those phrases, “Do not worry of it. It is not the first time.”

And a piece of him was certain it would not be the last that another would make efforts to steal something away whether physical belongings or something else entirely. Though he makes no effort to speak further on the matter as instead a question of his own rises, “It was elven correct? I do not know it myself but there are others in the manor which speak it.” At least when they thought no one was listening who could pick apart the secrets they no doubt told each other. Yet before a true chance is given to answer something else entirely fills the elf’s mind as nearly a second thought.

For perhaps there was a purpose that brought her out this night, why she too wandered the streets at this hour or if hers was as simply as it appeared. To attempt thievery like so many other vagrants. And yet it is the faint scent of blood and the scabbed marks upon those features that bring way to doubt less she was just as unsuccessful on her last target as she was with him. Prying words seeking her out with hope that she would not shrink away from them, “Is there anything you need to do out here? I do not wish to distract you from your own duties with mine.” If she truly held any.

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Freya Eroan
 Posted: Dec 27 2017, 11:38 PM
Quote
Freya Eroan
27 YEARS OLD
She/Her
Rogue
11
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Shadow
Thief
Junos
She/Her - Eastern


There was a notable longing that was tainting the desperation and the wariness in her gaze. It has been years since she has felt the friendly touch of another, much less her own kind, and her body yearned for it once more. Even as a younger individual than she was now, Freya was not always the most physically affectionate person in her clan. Far from it, actually, though she now feels the guilt of having taken something for granted that you did not know you would ever lose. The older elf's body language screams of hesitation and regret, wishing to take back the offered limb even as the child snatches it before he can think to do so. It is selfish, perhaps, to thrust her wants upon a stranger and have them filled without his knowing, but she is lonely enough for her conscience to allow for it. So, she curls her fingers with his own, feeling off when she draws near to him to leech from the warmth of his body.

There is a faint hum that begs the ear closest to him to twinge and pull back in order to listen better, golden eyes squinting at the soft melody that sings on his flesh. A light, constant buzz that threatens to distract her from their conversation, though she cannot resist the draw of her gaze over the illuminated stripes every once in a while.

Fenris. His name is stored and committed to a fresh, sharp memory. She would not know that it would be heard again in the years to come, or that this man had an important part to play in the future of a city she would dare never venture. For now, he was simply a man tied to the kindness of a stranger, a face that would couple a hope for brighter days that would eventually fade in her adulthood.

She does not mean to, but plows over his parrot question with words of her own. An apology for her heritage, is much what it sounded like. Offending him or causing him to feel outcast by her tongue was not her intention, and though she was but a child she understands the need to right a potential wrong before it be allowed to fester. Relief fills her chest at his acceptance, not left long to wonder on his unfamiliarity with the words before he asked about them.

"Yes, it was." A short pause and a breath of misty air breaks her sentences apart, "Does it make you sad not to know it? You must have been very young when you were taken away. Unless you were born in a city." She would wrinkle her nose, but the action upsets the fresh wound that has inched up its side. For a brief moment her fingers raise to gently flutter along the swollen edges of the grooves created from the dog's fangs, her wince focused ahead as she takes her eyes off of him. The roads are still dark, and even fewer bodies line the shadows between buildings than before. Night has claimed all but those who wish to be alone, or those that do not wish to be seen and bothered. She suspects that this man might have been both of those before she attempted to steal from him.

At his second question her brows raise, staunching the flow of emotion before it can rise anywhere on her face. "No, my master lets me roam when he does not have any tasks for me to accomplish, so long as I return before first light." It's a lie that slips easily through chattering teeth, spoken as fluently as the truth. He would be angry to know that she was out here wandering, causing trouble and the like. It would be his name that would be ill thought of, not her own. Oh, speaking of that. "My name is Freya. Forgive me for not answering sooner."

"What is it you are on your way to do?" Comes the question, one likely too curious for her own good. He was under no obligation to tell her anything, especially given the circumstances of their meeting. Still, she feels an immediate camaraderie with him due to their mutual race, and the fact that he has saved her from likely picking the wrong pocket and facing hard consequences. At least, he has for now.

Rogue Speak Think Colour

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Fenris
 Posted: Dec 30 2017, 02:28 AM
Quote
Fenris
34 YEARS OLD
he/him
Warrior
40
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Tevinter Fugitive
Mercenary
Robert
he/him - CST


The ghost is certain she hears it in the way she leans and shifts nearer to his figure. A foreign song singing out from within those branching veins as they drew both eye and ear of the child now. Nervousness swallowed away as he does not allow for a mind to linger upon the other’s unspoken curiosities. Forcing focus to rest upon the path before them in careful watch for any other that may move beneath the guise of night. Unknown forms dancing through the low light only to pull back toward the girl every so often should her grip tighten or come far too near for comfort.

Yet perhaps it is by luck that no trouble falls upon them, those stranger keeping to themselves just as the elf had attempted to do. Only the gentle call of their voices there to break through the air in mixed questions that fall from each of their tongues. Though an attempt at gaining a name for the unfamiliar is pushed aside in favor of what else has come to plague the mind of the girl. A being worrying over her apology even as it had been seen to cause no harm against him. For no matter the true phrases spoken they would have been accepted, assumed to be anything but sign of remorse.

Clouded breath pushing against the air as what little warmth was held escaped with each phrase. Eyes catching the way fingers ghost against her own features before her own gaze pulls away. Attentions returning to what lay before them. Though it is in the moment she quiets that his own breath falls quickly though he does not know if it would comfort her at all to know the truth. “No it does not,” for how could one be saddened to lose something if they could not remember ever having it? But it is those next phrases which gave him pause a statement of being stolen away or a wondering of city life, “I.”

Hesitance seizing the dog’s vocals once more until they find the courage to break free, “I could not tell you. I have no memory of where I was born.” Those passing whispers rising to swim through his thoughts then, those which spoke of the elf having hailed from Seheron yet such claims are far from what had left his lip. For no matter what others may say there was no telling of how true they rang and so it is the safest path taken even now when facing one who appeared far frailer than he. “Everything I know is here in Tevinter.” A free hand raising in subtle motion as he spoke, vague gesture made toward the paths which lay before them even as such features shifted for his own comfort.

An inquiry of his own soon rising, hope held that he was not merely a distraction from the tasks that may have been bestowed upon the elven girl. Silencing the doubt that ran through his mind over such a matter less a master had told one not cared for to cause mischief upon the streets. Risk greater harm from the hands of any who stood outside of the estate should she not be careful. Though phrases fall easily from the child. Drawing ears to flicker back at such claims and new surge of uncertainty fills him for such things did not sound as if they were truth. And if they were then it was certainly not a freedom the ghost was used to.

In the end Fenris supposed he held no real reason to doubt here. And yet it does nothing to stop a glance from shifting to where she stood. Silent stare holding upon her as it lay laced with disbelief though it is then a name if finally granted with another apology slipping out with the very same breath. A slow sigh pushes from the elf’s lungs though such thoughts are cast aside in favor of the question she asks. There was no reason to keep it secret especially when it was where they both headed now. Phrases falling smoothly as attentions returned to the path, “To collect supplies from an apothecary though I do not know the contents.” But he could only assume they were not exactly pleasant when coupled with all else the magister fancied. Anything to aid in his experimentations.

Lyrics paused then as attentions shift toward the ever rising buildings and the illuminated paths which wove between them, hinting at the life which still stirred within these walls. “We will be there shortly. It is just ahead.” That still held hand moving to press gently to her side in subtle guidance of a changed path, careful that he would not collide into that smaller frame. Steps carrying them into the stretches of light which shone from the small shop. A warm glow casting from within as the very location lay enclosed in warmth as if to adjust to the needs of the very plants grown inside.

Though fingers are quick to unravel and pull away from the child’s grasp before even stepping through the threshold of the apothecary’s dwelling. Hands shifting in nerves more than anything before pleading glance is cast toward the girl in silent hope that she would behave herself here. That she would not try anything and cause trouble for them both, simply keep to herself and warm a body while the chance was provided. It is with a steady sigh that gaze eventually turns away. A more neutral expression attempted to be adopted as they entered the shop. Attentions immediately drawn toward the woman who ran the place as a voice called out in nearly the same instant. “Ah there you are! Been waitin’ all night for you I have.”

Falsely gentle phrases crying out for focus from the stout woman being the counter. One who bore unassuming features and a softness that covered the entirety of her frame. Fancy adornments hunt heavily around her neck and decorated her ears, fingers lay laced in the very same. A multitude of rings to match all else and catch the soft glimmer of light that shone from above. Silken cloth draped about her frame in mixed colors yet never did they clash, dark eyes regarding the two that had walked through her door before a voice rang out once more, “But who’s your friend?” A jeweled hand gestured openly toward the girl, “He had not said there would be two of you comin’.”

Glancing toward Freya for but a moment he does not allow a gaze to linger before returning to the other. A lie falling easily even if he felt it could be regretted, “It was a last minute decision. Danarius wished for her to learn the route in case I was… preoccupied.” Far from the truth of it all and a part of him felt as if the woman knew it. That darkened stare flickering between the two before those same cheerful tones rose, “Well then I expect to see you in here again sometime young lady. You know, unless your little friend here is lyin’ to me.” A seemingly knowing smile pulled over her lips then though it does not yet shoe a trace of malice behind it.

Even still the ghost’s ears pull back in a quiet display of the nerves which hold him yet no further speech came to reflect such a tell. Instead a near silent murmur lifting in defense, “I have not before. Not to you.” Those eyes regard him then, “Sure you haven’t elfy.” A gentle hum of approval ringing from her lips as eyes flickered over him briefly, “Just you wait here and I’ll collect the order.” And with that said she shifted away for the time. A figure ducking behind a curtained room that lay hidden away from the front. Slow breath pushed from the marked one’s lungs then as eyes flickered toward the girl and whispered words rose, “Get warm while you can.”

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Freya Eroan
 Posted: Jan 11 2018, 10:13 PM
Quote
Freya Eroan
27 YEARS OLD
She/Her
Rogue
11
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Shadow
Thief
Junos
She/Her - Eastern


Freya's ears twitch to the song of the lyrium under his skin. Manifesting as the low, melodious call of a siren to her curiosity. She's never seen someone like him, someone marked in such a way that begs to be questioned. Somehow she holds her tongue, though her eyes follow the winding paths that branch across his flesh like rivers.

His words confuse her, if only for a moment. It made sense that he would not miss something he had never been apart of. Their culture was dying, everyone knew that here, and it was circumstances like his own that furthered that decay. Here stood an elf with no concept of what it was even like to be one, or of his very origin. Despite what he says, she still feels for him. The sadness that laps at the shore is only overshadowed by the pull of her anger. It wasn't fair that he'd been stolen and forced to live this life, just as it was for her. Her emotion snaps at her insides, a whip-crack that stings and burns like an open wound. It grows all the time, this rage of hers--turning as some dark thing in the pit of her stomach. It makes her sick to feel so much with no outlet, and without her consent her hand tightens around his.

"It is, at least, comforting that city elves can be kind," A short pause, in which she glances upward so that the light from a lantern reflects across golden irises, "The dalish don't speak highly of them. It is good to know they were wrong." Otherwise, where would she be right now? Shuddering in the cold, or in the grip of someone far less forgiving of her antics.

As the walk drags on, her mind attempts to flit back to why she is here in the first place. Her breath stutters, and her cheek aches. It's easy to stick her head under the water and close her eyes, to let her body become numb and her thoughts fracture and free themselves from her head. She can feel it happening, that worming of consciousness that leaks free, until his voice jars her back into reality. He has answered her second question, tempering her curiosity once again and allowing them both to slip into a short silence as she nods her reply. The walk is made without incident, thank the gods, and soon they find themselves entering the warm den of a shop. A fire crackled in a hearth close by, pulsing with a soft heat that draws her attention. The place stinks of herbs and spices, meeting his look just as the proprietor of said place comes into view.

As she is mentioned, she shuffles just a little closer to her taller companion--golden gaze never lingering in any one place for too long. The little elf can feel how he smooths through a lie, though there is a tell in the subtle flickers of his features. The threat is as present as a stalking predator, looming with promise, yet not acting. She doesn't like this woman already, and the second she disappears she dislodges herself from the man to make her way toward the fire.

The child takes a cursory look around, then begins to rifle through various trinkets and ingredients that are out on display. Sensitive ears can hear the woman still in the back, and with her words in mind she slips a few items into her shallow pockets with a subtle grace. She wasn't sure what she would even do with them, but she was angry enough on behalf of her partner that she wanted to do something to this shem. She has her hand in a basket of lavender when the woman reappears, gaze as sharp as a knife when they cut to the elf. Where once her fingers grasped, they deftly transitioned into combing, though this was still not appreciated. The bark of the woman's voice causes her to flinch, scuttling back to Fenris's side when the human moves toward her. Her long ears are tilted back in displeasure, nose wrinkled in the beginnings of a snarl as the human roughly grabs her wrist and jerks her arm forward. The other hand connects with her wounded cheek, left eye scrunching up to water at the impact of the slap that upset the deep grooves.

"Keep yer nasty little hands to yerself, ya filthy thing." Her grip is so strong that the rings on her fingers leave marks on the child's skin, who wrenches herself away once she gains some leverage. Sharp teeth bite the edge of a hiss of air as she retracts to press herself against the taller elf's side. The woman narrows her eyes, jaw set and hard in anger as she turns her attention abruptly to the older. "You go ahead and tell Danarius ta make sure she is disinclined to touch things that ain't hers after tonight." She thrusts a finger in the child's direction, apparently content with whatever punishment she was sure this man would deliver. "I'll be asking about it next time you come in here." Another threat, one that makes Freya feel proud of the weight in her pockets.

Shoving the bag and its contents into Fenris's hands, she waves the two of them away without a word. Freya's nose is still scrunched in lingering pain, her entire head pounding with throbs that pulse against her teeth. Gently, she reaches up to cover the space with her palm, lips twitching as a sniffle indicates that she is attempting not to cry.

"I am sorry if I got you into trouble," She mumbles, fishing in her pockets to examine the contents when they got back outside. There is a small vial of dark liquid, the stem of an unknown herb, and a few smooth, colorful stones. "May I still walk with you for a while?" She is uncertain of what his feelings were about what just happened, and hopes that the woman either forgets, or that he is able to lie in favor of his master. Reluctantly she looks up, praying that he will not hit her or make her leave his company just yet.

Rogue Speak Think Colour

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Fenris
 Posted: Today at 02:02 am
Quote
Fenris
34 YEARS OLD
he/him
Warrior
40
POSTS
Elf
SHIPPER
REQUEST
APPLICATION
DEVELOPMENT
Tevinter Fugitive
Mercenary
Robert
he/him - CST


As the girl’s hand tightens around his own the pressure draws eyes to flicker down in silent curiosity as if to find what spurred such action. Only to be meet with that vibrant stare as she peers toward him, dim light catching against those reflective hues as she speaks so freely of the Dalish yet not of the clan she was likely torn away from. Nothing more than a brief flash of sadness coming across his features as a slow breath pushed from the ghost’s lungs before attentions turned away to focus on what lay ahead. There was much he wondered about those who lived outside the city and the sort of lives they led.

So many different stories had been gathered from others within the estate as they spoke fondly of the memories they held of the past. Though he never pried too deeply no matter the curiosities which plagued him even now, figuring it was never the time to ask of such things. Just as it was not the proper time now. A tongue held as it so often was, leaving the two to travel in relative silence until the apothecary’s shop came into view. That deceitfully welcoming exterior beckoning those who came across it to enter and take in the flaring warmth it provided against the night. But many knew it not to be friendly to all who found themselves within.

That pleading glance cast toward her as they moved inside with only a passing flicker to show that perhaps it had been seen. But even though the lyrium marked is certain it was missed, hope still held that Freya would know better than to cause trouble when under the watchful eye of their better. An overwhelming perfume of smells filled the air around them as it wafted from both the decorated woman behind the counter and the vegetation which hung so freely. Pale gaze is kept low as the shop keep speaks, a voice only rising when it was required of him though he cannot help but to let attentions drift when the other presses closer to his side.

Though it does not hold as focus is found upon the one draped in silks once more before she can notice that all attention was not upon her. And it is in the moment she disappears that Freya pulls quickly from his side to step nearer to the fire. Yet he is not blind to the way she rifles through the trinkets and plants out on display, the skittering of supplies shifting beneath her touch and causing a heart to sink. But a dog says nothing. Merely watching for a moment before eyes snap back toward the backroom as the curtain shifts. Ears pulling back as those burning eyes rest on him for only a moment before locking in on the girl who wanders the shop.

Vocals carrying easily through the shop as the child maneuvers quickly back to his side, only to be seized by the jeweled woman as she roughly pulled the other forward. The defiance more than clear upon the younger elf’s features before that ringed hand swooped in to connect against them. Expression quickly shifted on both Freya’s and his own face as action alone caused the man to flinch. Settling only slightly when she manages to pull away and press against him once more, the urge to place an arm around her resisted as attention is torn away. Never allowed to linger or comfort when another was so clearly angered.

Focus found solely on the decorated woman before them as those phrases hissed with a venom toward him now. Unease settling within his stomach as thinly veiled threats lay laced within her words. Demanding that Danarius be told of the girl’s actions this night, no doubt expecting further punishment to come from a supposed master’s hand upon their return. A small frown tugged against his lips as pointed teeth came to pinch against the inside of his mouth. The package roughly pressed into his grasp with time hardly given for hands to properly grab hold before her own is released. Slight panic washing over the marked elf until he is certain the supplies are secured.

Pale gaze holding to the counter top as it never risked to stray toward the angered, “Of course.” Simple agreement falling from his lips even as he held no plans to speak of this particular event upon a return to the manor. For so long as the apothecary did not seek Danarius out herself this would not be an incident he needed to worry himself over. Though there was that lingering sense of dread over the possibility that the jeweled one would take the initiative to do just that. It is without a word that an arm came to wrap around the girl’s shoulders in a false show of disapproval as fingers pressed a bit too tightly against her though did no more than offer direction as a figure shifted to step from the building.

A touch which quickly lightens the moment they are out of sight. Focus shifting to rest upon the other elf as she speaks up though silence finds him for a moment before a slow sigh pushes from his lungs. Voice coming softly then as gaze pulled away from her, “Do not be. But do not show your face there for a while.” For he was certain that next time the girl would receive more than just a slap if she were caught rifling around a second time. Yet it is her question that goes unanswered even as steps do not yet continue. Courage eventually found to face the other as eyes fell upon what she held within her grasps before attention drifted to what marked her face. Gentle breath escaping as a body shifted closer to Freya’s level, “Let me see it.”

Slowly a hand reached out to press to her chin and tilt a head to allow better access to see what lay across her features. Faint marks of those ringed fingers reddening her cheek, no doubt giving way to a series of bruising that would blossom against her flesh where what already marred her did not already taint. Though it was clear that the deeper gashes did not come from the one they just left as the dried blooded flecked away at his touch. Fingers running gently over her cheek though it is faint brush quickly taken away to avoid placing more discomfort than necessary. There wasn’t much he could truly do for her, in truth he wasn’t even certain why he wished to look upon it now. Lyrics fall in what he hopes to be encouraging, “It doesn’t look too bad.”

A lie when it came to the varying marks that littered her and in the way his expression shifted, she likely knew it. Pale gaze soon flickering to rest on what she had stolen once more as if searching for anything of use. The strange liquid and colorful stones unknown in their use or purposes to the ghost though the stem is at least familiar. “Give me the plant you took,” request falling softly as the package from the shop was temporarily placed upon the ground where he kneeled. Freeing up his other hand as it came to hover in front of her for a moment, chance given to pass it over without simply taking it away. In the instant the object finds him, the hand which once rested upon those features pulls away fully to find the root only to break it open.

Pressure placed upon it to force the juice to run over those marked digits before they rose to press to the grooves which carved against her flesh. A voice rising in a low murmur as the innards of the plant were rubbed over the injuries that could be seen, “It will hurt at first but it will numb.” Silence coming over the slave then as action is repeated until he is certain each has had a bit of the root placed upon it. Whatever remained handed back to the girl before fingers curled around the supply bundle once more. Focus holding upon her for a moment as he considered speaking further before seemingly remembering what had been asked of him before. “You can still walk with me. I have nowhere else to go but back to the estate though.”

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