"[She] was the sort of person who stood on mountaintops during thunderstorms in wet copper armour shouting, "All the Gods are bastards."" {Middle Earth OC in main verse, Dragon Age and modern AU included. All au(s)/verses welcome.} Stahl, human weaponsmith with a flair for dwarven design.
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She hated how nervous it made him. Cass had lived off of such songs in her college years, drunk off of the singing of bar customers as much as the ale itself.
It was something she’d never been able to touch, their songs, not in the beginning anyway. By the time the boys had allowed her to press her way in, it had felt like an honor. The songs on her lips had felt like a gift.
That Mikhail was embarrassed of his own sent a shot through her chest.
She paused for a moment, hauling herself up onto the counter beside him, before starting in on the next verse.
"What'll make the dumb talk, what will make the lame walk,
The elixir of life and the philosopher's stone?
And what helped Mr. Brunnell to dig the Thames Tunnel -
Wasn't it whiskey from old Inisowen?"
Her voice was crisp and she knew the men of the bar would tease her on her pronunciation, but this was different. A desperate moment to share with someone just as important as they had been.
A Drinking Song
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She didn’t mean to upset him. Mikhail had always been rather careful with his singing- it was rare she caught him doing it.
The air in her throat fluttered and Cassandra stepped forward quickly. ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop.’
“Not long. Promise.” Her fingers itched to touch his face, his chest, anything to keep him going. She’d missed the low, rolling notes of a drinking song; London just wasn’t the spot to look for whistling Irish men. The bars blared sports from their speakers more than music these days.
“I haven’t heard that one in ages. I think there’s another verse, yeah?”
A Drinking Song
What best wets your whistle, What’s clearer than crystal, Sweeter than honey, And stronger than steam?
Mikhail alternately hummed and sung verses as he diced onion into small bits, stopping sometimes to repeat a verse he misspoke, or try another tune. He paused mid-word, scooping the pieces and dropping them into a hot pan with a sizzle, washing his hands and starting the song over instead of where he’d stopped as he moved on to grab celery and carrot.
@blue-mountains-blacksmith
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Cassandra paused, her hand caught in the tendrils of her hair as she listened.
There it was again. Words so soft they were almost a hum, but she could feel them. The notes buzzed across her skin and bounced down the hallway.
She moved slowly, almost afraid that he would stop if he noticed her attention. It was so rare that Mikhail sang, usually preferring to dance to a tune or rap his fingers across the counter than actually vocalize. The sound of his voice, clear and sure, set a knot into her throat.
Cassandra paused for a moment, peeking around the corner at him. It was an old Irish tune, familiar, and his voice seemed to just fit. She’d watched boys at the bar during university, listened for hours to the rolling jaunt of drunken men. It had been easy to fall into, easy to get lost in the camaraderie, in Phillip’s lips dancing dancing over each line.
But Mikhail- Mikhail felt light. Loose enough that it seemed natural, but focused enough that each note rang.
She slowed at the kitchen entrance, her hands going to her arms where goosebumps raced across her skin.
‘Don’t stop.’
A Drinking Song
What best wets your whistle, What’s clearer than crystal, Sweeter than honey, And stronger than steam?
Mikhail alternately hummed and sung verses as he diced onion into small bits, stopping sometimes to repeat a verse he misspoke, or try another tune. He paused mid-word, scooping the pieces and dropping them into a hot pan with a sizzle, washing his hands and starting the song over instead of where he’d stopped as he moved on to grab celery and carrot.
@blue-mountains-blacksmith
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“You’re not bad at it.”
Stahl smiled back at Mikhail fondly, pleased the elf was comfortable to stay put. She hummed in content, and flexed her fingers around his. Dragging curious fingers down his chest, she scooted just an inch closer until their thighs touched. A shiver of heat ran up the back of her neck.
“I’m very good practice, if you want it.”
((Platonic touch: my character to yours: Crawling into bed with) Or in this case, Stahl crawling into Mik's bedroll while they're on the road/way to Erebor. Beginning touches of romance. FLUFF IT OR MAKE IT DRAMATIC OR QUIET OR SURPRISING, YOUR CHOICE.)
He’d already begun to doze when he heard her shift, thinking Stahl would tend the fire as she usually did. It had become their routine for him to cook and set up camp and for her to watch the fire and keep it preserved for the night. He twitched when his arm was touched, blinking awake and realizing it was no accident that she was nearby.
Saying nothing, he settled down again, heart fluttering strangely as he wondered what this was about. The woman didn’t speak either, and so he tried to resume his peace, making a little room for her, but not venturing far away.
@blue-mountains-blacksmith
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Stahl waited for a moment, mulling over his words. They were almost funny in their rigidity, and she turned her head to look at the elf.
Somehow, his inability to cope normally with their proximity made her own nerves abate.
“That was the intention when I climbed in.” It was hard to keep the amusement out of her voice and instead, she scrubbed at the back of her neck. Turning on her side, Stahl propped herself up on one elbow. Reaching across Mikhail, she dragged a strand of hair away from his face.
She just needed a sign. Something that didn’t scream that he was too uncomfortable for anything but companionship.
“I take it you’re not the type to cuddle then?”
((Platonic touch: my character to yours: Crawling into bed with) Or in this case, Stahl crawling into Mik's bedroll while they're on the road/way to Erebor. Beginning touches of romance. FLUFF IT OR MAKE IT DRAMATIC OR QUIET OR SURPRISING, YOUR CHOICE.)
He’d already begun to doze when he heard her shift, thinking Stahl would tend the fire as she usually did. It had become their routine for him to cook and set up camp and for her to watch the fire and keep it preserved for the night. He twitched when his arm was touched, blinking awake and realizing it was no accident that she was nearby.
Saying nothing, he settled down again, heart fluttering strangely as he wondered what this was about. The woman didn’t speak either, and so he tried to resume his peace, making a little room for her, but not venturing far away.
@blue-mountains-blacksmith
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It wasn’t quite the reaction Stahl was going for, but he wasn’t pushing her away at least.
Over the past few weeks, she liked to believe they’d grown closer. The kiss had been a one-time thing, it seemed- a combination of alcohol and urges. Still, there were moments where hers and Mikhail’s hands would brush and they didn’t jump away and stutter as they had before.
Slowly, she had imagined more than just small flirtations. It had been silly, daydreaming about coming home to someone on a regular basis, enjoying their simple presence, having a companion. As of the past few days, it had been hard to get the thought of how he would feel laying beside her out of her mind. Eventually, she had given in.
Mikhail was quiet, a sign she couldn’t interpret, and a shiver of nerves ran up the back of Stahl’s neck. She dragged her fingers over the cloth of his bedroll until she found his wrist. Her fingertips grazed across his palm. Stahl’s head tipped slightly left and she leaned into the elf’s shoulder.
“It’s cold tonight. I thought-” She went silent herself as a rush of heat bloomed across her cheeks. Thank the gods for the dark.
((Platonic touch: my character to yours: Crawling into bed with) Or in this case, Stahl crawling into Mik's bedroll while they're on the road/way to Erebor. Beginning touches of romance. FLUFF IT OR MAKE IT DRAMATIC OR QUIET OR SURPRISING, YOUR CHOICE.)
He’d already begun to doze when he heard her shift, thinking Stahl would tend the fire as she usually did. It had become their routine for him to cook and set up camp and for her to watch the fire and keep it preserved for the night. He twitched when his arm was touched, blinking awake and realizing it was no accident that she was nearby.
Saying nothing, he settled down again, heart fluttering strangely as he wondered what this was about. The woman didn’t speak either, and so he tried to resume his peace, making a little room for her, but not venturing far away.
@blue-mountains-blacksmith
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Glamdring (also called Foe-Hammer) was a hand-and-a-half sword, forged for Turgon, the King of Gondolin during the First Age.
Sting was an Elven shortsword made in Gondolin during the First Age. After wielding it during the Quest for Erebor, Bilbo Baggins had it engraved with the Sindarin text, Maegnas aen estar nin dagnir in yngyl im. Translated into English, it reads, “Sting is my name, I am the spider’s bane.”
Orcrist was an Elven sword from Gondolin, the mate of Glamdring, which became the sword of Thorin II Oakenshield during The Quest of Erebor. It was feared and called Biter by the Orcs.
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What are the important rules you live by? Be kind. Don’t hurt other people. It’s all the sort of Christian ethics stuff I thought was bullshit when I was a kid. No, it turns out it’s not bullshit. Tell the truth, be kind, all that corny stuff.
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{Mistletoe Meme}
Cass sat quietly on the couch with Mikhail, her fingers threaded through his own. Christmas miracles had come in the form of their daughter going to bed willingly for once, exhausted from the glee of the day and clutching a white unicorn to her chest as she tottered off to her room.
Cassandra glanced up and grinned. Pointing upwards towards the speckled holly hanging from the ceiling, the woman leaned in quickly and planted a deep kiss on Mikhail’s lips.
“Merry Christmas, Mik.”
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Deals and Daggers (cuervocanto)
Work had been a little too slow as of late.
With the weather shifting quickly into autumn, there were fewer travelers, even to the city. It was harder to swing a heavy-handed mace or sword when there was ice underfoot; business always got tight when it came to the cold months and Ferelden was certainly not known for its forgiving winters.
But there was money to be made- enough at least to tide her and Perin over until at least early spring, and if she could move the market just so, folk looking for a hardy defense would find stock in her goods. Part of the job.
“Iron’s cheap, folks! Come and get it.”
Linking her fingers together, she leaned over a box of daggers and swords, cleaning one blade till it shone, and sent the bursting crowd a smile of gold.
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This is the frogs in a nutshell
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Gandalf breaking all the rules.
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Character Development Questions: Hard Mode
i-see-light:
Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?
What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?
What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?
Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?
On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?
Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?
Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?
Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?
Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?
Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?
In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?
In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?
Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?
Does your character remember names or faces easier?
Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?
Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?
What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?
Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?
What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?
In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?
If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?
What does your character like in other people?
What does your character dislike in other people?
How quick is your character to trust someone else?
How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?
How does your character behave around children?
How does your character normally deal with confrontation?
How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?
What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?
What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?
Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.
Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.
In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?
Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?
How does your character behave around people they like?
How does your character behave around people they dislike?
Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?
Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?
Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?
How does your character treat people in service jobs?
Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?
Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?
Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?
How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?
What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?
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I pretend to be complex and clever but in reality, nothing has ever made me laugh harder than those bad Chinese subtitles from the bootleg Lord of the Rings DVDs. Tears streaming down my face, core aching, slowly suffocating because I’m laughing too hard.
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Each reply from mikhailvalhidris is better than the last, completely mind blowing. You’re left wondering how a reply could’ve possibly been so good. They are well constructed, full of detail and imagery that makes you truly feel and see what Mikhail is going through. Some of the words she uses I had forgot existed and sometimes I wonder just how big her vocabulary is, it must be huge!
@mikhailvalhidris
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Honestly the best version of a night vale film would be if they cast everyone and showed their faces but not Cecil’s. His face would be strategically hidden every time like when they use plants being placed to hide nudity and stuff. They would use Cecil Baldwin’s voice for all his dialogue but you’d never see the face so lip synch doesn’t matter.
Also every shot with Cecil is a new person.
No explanation, just an entirely different actor.
The skin colour and body type could change and no one questions it, it’s just a whole collection of random Cecils.
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