darlingbardling

[darlingbardling]

send in; 🎟️[ticket] for me to make a moodboard with 4-9 photos for our muses/ship.

[darlingbardling]

𝄞𝄢 “RINNILL.” BREE REPEATED his name, let the syllables roll off her tongue like a raindrop to a blade of grass. It had a nice ring to it. “Finally, a name for my generous benefactor.”

She noted the roughness of his hand. It was a type of worn different from hers. He had seen battle, or at least conflict, while Bree had only really seen tavern stages and glittering ballrooms. When he mentioned hunting monsters, the puzzle pieces quickly slid into place. Ah, so he was a ranger. Although he carried no weapons on his person at the moment. Curious.

“A glass of Blingdenstone Blush would be nice.” Ever the sweet-tooth, Bree gravitated more towards more fruity drinks when she did imbibe. The bard didn’t want to put Rinnill out, especially after he gave her so much coin for her performance. But she couldn’t deny that the man intrigued her. And so she stayed.

Her eyes drifted to his mouth, the only thing not completely shadowed by his hood. “Are you hunting anything in particular in this town?”

𝄞𝄢 SHE STRAIGHTENED WITH a twinkle in her eye. “I aim to please,” she drawled in reply to his gentle praise. She couldn’t see his face, but his tone alone told that her song— her voice— had resonated with him.

At the offer, her smile widened. “A drink sounds nice,” she said. “I won’t feel like I’m robbing you of all your gold that way.”

The tiefling placed her violin in its rightful place in its case before buckling it shut. Realizing that the performance was over, the patrons returned to their conversations, a dull roar that filled the space much like Bree’s singing had.

She led the stranger to an empty table, being mindful of his hobble. No comments were made on his missing leg, nor was there a look of shock or judgement. Bree simply sat down and crossed her leg over her knee.

“I’m Bree by the way.” Her bracelets jingled like tiny bells as she held her hand out to shake. “Bree Heartleaf. A pleasure.”

[darlingbardling]

𝄞𝄢 BREE’S BROW LIFTED. Gale usually had a bit of a melodramatic flair about himself, not unlike their resident vampire. But it was usually gloating, posturing, oh so eloquently waxing poetic about his affinity with controlling the Weave like a composer might to an orchestra. Not whatever this was. The bard tilted her head inquisitively.

“Okay, no ballads then. How about a listening ear?” She took a step forward and tucked her hands behind her back. “I saw you were looking at someone in your hand. Who was that?”

@darlingbardling asked: “Why so glum? Would a ballad or two lift your spirits?” (For whatever muse you’d like!)

Gale blinked in surprise, letting the image of Mystra he held in his palm disappear into that night. It suddenly felt colder, lonelier without her magic.

Still, he chuckled at Bree's question. "I'm not sure a ballad would lift my spirits. Unless you mean to commiserate with me in my misery?"

He didn't think he wanted that, honestly. He hoped she'd never have to feel the same despair he'd felt.

[darlingbardling]

I changed my mobile layout :}

[darlingbardling]

My favorite icon currently:

She looks so dubious I’m laughing

[darlingbardling]

Went too long without painting him and had to do something!

[darlingbardling]

𝄞𝄢 SHE STRAIGHTENED WITH a twinkle in her eye. “I aim to please,” she drawled in reply to his gentle praise. She couldn’t see his face, but his tone alone told that her song— her voice— had resonated with him.

At the offer, her smile widened. “A drink sounds nice,” she said. “I won’t feel like I’m robbing you of all your gold that way.”

The tiefling placed her violin in its rightful place in its case before buckling it shut. Realizing that the performance was over, the patrons returned to their conversations, a dull roar that filled the space much like Bree’s singing had.

She led the stranger to an empty table, being mindful of his hobble. No comments were made on his missing leg, nor was there a look of shock or judgement. Bree simply sat down and crossed her leg over her knee.

“I’m Bree by the way.” Her bracelets jingled like tiny bells as she held her hand out to shake. “Bree Heartleaf. A pleasure.”

𝄞𝄢 BREE COULDN’T DENY her surprise at the latter’s request. Typically people wanted to hear something popular, something upbeat and bawdy. But this man wanted her to sing something designed by her and her alone.

Her tail wagged slightly with excitement, but slowed as the man turned his head away even further from her curious gaze.

Ah, an anonymous benefactor then. She leaned back, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“Please, you’ve already given me enough coin as is.” Bree set her bow down in the case and held her violin to her middle, like one would with a lute. “Here’s a little something I’ve been working on.

She strummed the strings of her violin, letting the melody warm up, before she started to sing.

"You're headed for heaven The sweet old hereafter And I've got one foot in the door But before I can fly up I've loose ends to tie up Right here, in the old therebefore.”

Her voice was rich and full-bodied, like sun-warmed honey— sugar melting on one’s tongue. Bright, clear, a light-lyric soprano that filled the tavern up to the rafters. Her eyes slipped shut as she sang, completely and wholly in her element.

And when the song ended, her music still hummed in the bones of the patrons long after. She smiled down at the stranger, and gave him a little curtsy.

[darlingbardling]

[darlingbardling]

commission for jess of sommelier gale with "hairy slutty forearms" 😏👌

[darlingbardling]

Shadowheart among Night Orchids :)

[darlingbardling]

𝄞𝄢 WELL, THAT WAS a first. Usually people would beg for Bree to cease her pun-filled antics. But sweet Mercile seemed to be eager for more comedic torture.

"Famous last words," she teased as she popped open the book once again. "Far be it from me to deny a lady what she wants."

Bree cleared her throat dramatically as she read the next joke:

"'What happened to the demon when his girlfriend joined the Holy Order?'

He got fiend-zoned!'"

She saw the other swishing her tail, which thought to her mind.. It's pretty cute, the smile is still curled to her pink lips as she shakes her head. " Better yet Bree... I would like another one.. " She asked as she is sitting infront of her near the campfire, waiting for another for her to read off the Sir Chuckles book.

[darlingbardling]

" Darling, if you had to write a praise to my beauty, what would it sound like? '' ( He had to go there lol )

ASK BOX ; ALWAYS OPEN 」 ⁀➴ @astarigod ⭑.ᐟ

𝄞𝄢 BREE LAUGHED. "Looking for compliments, huh? I suppose I could wax poetic about you for a bit."

Her grin was broad and impish as she took up her spider lyre. The tune she played was light and airy, just like her voice as she began to sing:

"His smile, his wiles will draw you near,

He'll whisper sweet nothings into your ear,

A wink, and a bite, and he's off into the night,

But oh, how I wish he stayed here.

With hair like starlight,

And ruby eyes so bright,

Unparalleled, his beauty, not even I could write."

[darlingbardling]

𝄞𝄢 "OHH, JAHEIRA TAUGHT you this then?" the bard inquired as she guzzled down more honeyed tea. "That makes sense. The high harper was always making funky ointments and potions to heal whatever ailments we suffered from."

She wondered what Jaheira was up to now. After the events that transpired with the illithid parasite, Bree hoped that she was taking it easy at least a little. The encounter the party had with her other children was... awkward, to say the least. It'd do Jaheira a world of good to focus on her family more and less on saving the world.

"I thought it might've been your birth mother. You don't talk about her much." Of course Bree didn't want to pry, but she was rather curious.

Eyeing the pile of salt on the plate, she scooped a little up with her pointer finger and licked it. Immediately her face scrunched up, and her tail swished along the blankets with a feline-like displeasure.

Evune had went out of her way to care for her, and so Bree held back the complaints that threatened to tumble from her salt-soaked tongue and scooped up some more salt. She washed it down with a hearty gulp of tea this time.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, of course."

Bree sincerely hoped her questions hadn't upset the latter.

She couldn’t help but smile at the thanks. With her siblings she so often took on the caretaking role that it became standard, not something they would think to thank her for. She didn’t mind that dynamic, she knew they appreciated her, but it was nice to hear it occasionally.

As for the Druid question: she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall as she spoke. “she is a Druid, in fact. And an old well traveled one who has picked up a thing or two over her many many years. And she had to deal with me, as a child and now, which I guarantee gave her more than a few headaches.” She joked. But hey, growing up with Jaheira also gave her more than a few headaches too.

When Bree brought her attention back to the salt she realized how odd it seemed compared to the other things Evune gave her. Water? Standard. Tea? Pretty usual. Pile of salt? Not so much.

“Well it’s not actually just one kind of salt, it’s multiple kinds. There’s some common table salt in there but other types too, you can see they look different if you look close enough, they taste different too.”

She hoped she could explain this correctly, for a lot of things in her healing repository she operated by the ‘it just works’ method of thought. She wasn’t very interested in the ‘this specific things goes and interacts with this which causes it to release this other thing and-‘ it would all turn to a jumbled mess of various terms even if she were trying to pay attention to what they were saying. All she needed to know was what is it for, what does it do, how does she make it and is there any negative effects. Jaheira or Jord would be able to explain what it was actually doing better but since she was here: she’d have to do.

“Alcohol takes a lot of salt from your body and that contributes to the hangover feeling, so the dish is just to replenish them. Though you are right that being dehydrated is a big part of it, so you’ll want to drink plenty of water to balance it out.” Eh, that sounded like a good enough explanation.

“I don’t really know the intricacies of how it works, it’s been explained to me before but I never really paid enough attention to actually understand besides that: it works and has a reason for working. So eat your salt.”

[darlingbardling]

𝄞𝄢 BREE COULDN’T DENY her surprise at the latter’s request. Typically people wanted to hear something popular, something upbeat and bawdy. But this man wanted her to sing something designed by her and her alone.

Her tail wagged slightly with excitement, but slowed as the man turned his head away even further from her curious gaze.

Ah, an anonymous benefactor then. She leaned back, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“Please, you’ve already given me enough coin as is.” Bree set her bow down in the case and held her violin to her middle, like one would with a lute. “Here’s a little something I’ve been working on.

She strummed the strings of her violin, letting the melody warm up, before she started to sing.

"You're headed for heaven The sweet old hereafter And I've got one foot in the door But before I can fly up I've loose ends to tie up Right here, in the old therebefore.”

Her voice was rich and full-bodied, like sun-warmed honey— sugar melting on one’s tongue. Bright, clear, a light-lyric soprano that filled the tavern up to the rafters. Her eyes slipped shut as she sang, completely and wholly in her element.

And when the song ended, her music still hummed in the bones of the patrons long after. She smiled down at the stranger, and gave him a little curtsy.

ᒥ🕷ᒧ—      "The Gods do not affect my actions; I have given you such a generous amount of my own accord. You have earned it, Lady Tymora had no sway in the matter..." Perhaps it was hard to argue how luck hadn't brought him here on the night she played, but he would try. His disdain for deities wasn't as well hidden as his heritage.

Feeling her curious gaze moving closer, he turned his head away and drew his hood down further. There was much distrust for drow, for a good reason he had to admit, but this interaction he did not wish to turn sour. He'd keep himself hidden for as long as he needed to.

"I do not know many songs by name, but what I am most curious about is...Music you've crafted yourself. A song known only to your heart would be pleasant. And sung? I'd be very pleased to hear your voice." His voice was soft, spoken like a schoolboy too shy. Was it because he was hiding or was he truly shy around her?

"I have more coin to spare; I will certainly pay you more if such an intimate song I wish for you to sing has a higher price."

[darlingbardling]

𝄞𝄢 THE BARD'S CHEEKS flushed rosy, her freckled face the shade of a ripe strawberry. She wasn't used to being teased like this, but she didn't mind it in the slightest. In fact, it made her feel a little more normal. Like she was just a normal girl making friends at the local tavern.

"Definitely not a rogue," she agreed with a sheepish smile. "I'm not very good at lying, and I wouldn't know the first thing to do with a lockpicking set."

The light caught Dirt's necklace once again, and her eyes dropped down to the delicate piece of jewelry. She could see the script engraved in the lustrous metal, but she couldn't quite make out the words. Even if she could, she was rather rusty at understanding infernal. The language of the Hells wasn't one needed to impress socialites and enthrall noble men.

"Oh!" Bree's expression grew all the more bashful when she realized she hadn't even introduced herself properly. Where had her manners gone? "It's okay, I forgot to give you my name too. I'm Bree. It's nice to meet you, Dirt."

She held out her hand to shake, her fingertips rough and calloused from a life of instrument-playing.

"Your name, might I ask the meaning behind it?"

Dirt raises an amused brow as the poor Tiefling woman chokes on her drink. He hides his smile behind a sip of Wyvern whiskey. The drink warms his chest, nostrils flaring a little at the intensity of the drink. He wasn't a lightweight by any means, but the strength of the drink never failed to surprise him amongst first sip... almost like the back of Raphael's hand.

❝I'm not too sure I believe you," he drawls, leaning against the bar with his chin in his hand. He notices the way her tail bumps his playfully. He has almost forgotten he has one at times. If he is surprised by the action he doesn't show it. He flicks the tip of his tail feigning indifference, but its another playful act on his end. ❝A Tiefling who hasn't gotten out much? If you'll pardon me saying, you don't strike me as a rogue... too..." he gives her a nudge. ❝Friendly.❞

and friendliness is what is going to get her killed, you bastard, Dirt thinks to himself ruefully.

❝Are you hoping on becoming an adventurer then?❞ he eyes her apparel. ❝Perhaps a bard in need of companions, eh?❞

The collar necklace glints and dangles prettily from his neck, displaying prominent collarbones, not necessarily uncommon among the Tiefling build. To the trained eye, one could see that the decoration of ownership was indeed infernal in essence.

He chuckles darkly. ❝A regular? Perhaps. I try not to frequent the same tavern's too much. I'm not picky by any means but I have learned to develop some refined tastes-- even if in... bawdier areas.❞

Like The Devil's Den in Sharess Caress for starters..

❝You must forgive me for that little, ah, episode earlier,❞ he adds, forcefully snapping himself out from his darker thoughts. He takes another sip of his drink, savoring the burn. ❝I've completely forgotten my manners. Have I not introduced myself? My name is Dirt, and you are?❞

[darlingbardling]

Continued from here (x) ⁀➴ @griefgoddess ⭑.ᐟ

𝄞𝄢 HER TAIL LASHED behind her with great delight. "Ah, dealer's choice then. Hm, let's see... how about something off the cuff?"

As she retrieved her violin from its case, her mind was already spinning together a ballad like a spider with its gossamer webs. Her fingers plucked at the strings, testing the way her instrument sang, before she began to strum a basic tune. She played a few notes to build up some momentum, before she let her voice fly:

"In the cover of the softest night,

Her touch makes my heart take flight.

With the curve of her waist she teases,

With the heaven between her hips, she pleases—

Our bodies, enveloped in gentle twilight."

[darlingbardling]

𝄞𝄢 THE SOUND OF Katya's laugher surprised Bree. She hadn't thought what she said was very funny— but nevertheless she was happy to have gotten more than just a sneer out of the other woman.

"You own a tavern? What's the place called? I may have heard of it." The bard perked up with intrigue. During her time in the Gate, she didn't get much of a chance to see what the city had to offer. No, her time there consisted of staring at the garish wallpaper of the manor she lived in, the glimmering chandelier of the parlor room, and the silken sheets of the pleasure room.

Perhaps this was the silver lining of her predicament. Now that she was presumed dead, she could go to every tavern in all of Faerûn and no one would be able to stop her.

"And, this illegal side hustle, does it happen to consist of you 'getting rid' of people?"

Bree had the sneaking suspicion that Katya and her pack may or may not be eating people. But she couldn't prove it just yet.

IT WASN'T OFTEN THAT SOMEONE thanked her for offering to kill people for them - even more so it was completely unheard of to have it be called a sweet act. Both parts made Katya raise her eyebrows in confusion, unsure what to say to any of that - so she chose to ignore it instead, pretending not to hear it.

"A mob boss?" she asked, finally snapping out of her confusion, frowning before cackling a little, a sharp smile lining her face.

"Well - that's not that far off. I do own a tavern, a bunch of lackeys ( her pack ) and run an illegal side hustle of . . . hard to procure diets. Which often does involve murder . . . so you're not wrong. But I would never say somethin' as stupid as ' sleepin' with the fishes ' ."

The thought was funny though. She imagined her pack would not be all too happy if she started asking them to kiss a ring or something - not that she wanted their filthy little mouths anywhere near her hands.