((RP blog for a Skyrim based Argonian OC that goes by the name of Nor. Multi-fandom and verse friendly, as well as multiship. Muse and mun are 21+ and blog may become nsfw. Possibly triggering things will be tagged, but please go elsewhere if this bothers you.))
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-wearily pinches the bridge of my nose- So, hi all. I know it’s been years. Life sucks, that whole song and dance, and sweet lords I’ve missed rping Nor with all of you. But every time I want to get back into things life gives me another kick and another delay. And now with this new tumblr horseshit....yeah. Just... yeah.
So, at this point I would like to extend an invitation to join me on discord. It’s way easier for me to be active on there, especially with tumblr’s recent stupidity, and while I can’t promise the rping will be quick or constant, I would still love to be able to keep in contact with you amazing, incredible peeps.
So, just drop me a mail, or comment on here, basically any way that makes it easy on you, and I will be more than happy send you a friend request or give you my info so you can send me one.
Hope I get to talk to you all soon. <3
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Star Trek: Enterprise {Sentence Starter}
“I never got the impression you cared that much about humans.”
“You’re going to shoot a bug?”
“No, no, I’d like to stay and see what happens.”
“Remind me to stop trying to help people.”
“But whatever’s going on with you lately, I’ve had enough.”
“I’ve always been much better at avoiding farewells than giving them.”
“Seems like you were always finding something new to complain about.”
“You aren’t saying much tonight. Don’t tell me you’re still upset.”
“You have no idea how much I’m restraining myself from knocking you on your ass.”
“It goes without saying that you’re going to encounter the unexpected.”
“You’re good at building things. I’m good at blowing them up.”
“I’m getting real sick of being cut off.”
“Are you passing through or is there something I can help you with?”
“You’ve had too much to drink.”
“I’m not here to steal your secrets. It would hardly be worth the effort.”
“Am I sensing concern? Last I checked, that was considered an emotion.”
“Take your cynicism and bury it with your repressed emotions.”
“Are you implying that I’m attracted to you?”
“When you come up with a plan which doesn’t involve blowing ourselves up, I’ll be a little more enthusiastic.”
“Well, I don’t particularly like the way YOU smell, either.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“We should have heard something by now. What if they failed?”
“You know, your voice is tensing up. That’s a dead giveaway.”
“It’s ridiculous to assume that those events are going to happen.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do with those?”
“I think you’re mistaken about who’s attracted to whom.”
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Reblog if you are an Elder Scrolls rp blog or have an Elder Scrolls verse
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((And heading off for the night for now. Tomorrow is Pathfinder night, so you probably won’t see me until Thursday. Will hopefully manage to get a few more drafts worked on then, and thank you all again for your patience.))
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“Well, I suppose that would depend on how much you weight, first of all,” the Argonian began, carefully tracing his way around the edges of the pit to survey the walls himself. “I might not look it, but I’m decently strong enough. Kind of have to be if I want to be able to take care of myself while I’m on the road.” An idle hum as Nor taps the edge of a wall the the toe of his boot. “I suppose we could always attempt to shove a few rocks down there with you. See if you can stand on a couple of those on top of each other to give you some better leverage.”
“I would be humming a far different tune if that were true. Screaming. I would be screaming, or incredibly dead.”
Guillaume stood with his arms akimbo, glancing around at the trap’s crumbling walls. As expected, the soil was soft, preventing any sort of easy escape. He felt the tiniest hint of pity for the next unfortunate soul who would unsuspectingly wander across this.
“I’m not sure if a rope or anything would work…unless you think you can drag my weight back up there without a problem.”
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An almost dismissive snort leaves the Argonian’s frame. “Surely one can be expected move around throughout their lifetime? Black Marsh is quite a far cry from Skyrim as it is. And it’s not as if we are stuck to one particular branch or place exclusively, after all.” A slight wave of a hand. “Sometimes the right person for a particular job might simply be elsewhere and need to be brought in. And I dare say the existence of Shadowscales beyond Black Marsh would be practically nil if we weren’t able to move about.”
His train of thought is derailed slightly by the others words, however, along with a brief grinding of the assassin’s teeth as the pair stands at the crossroads, Nor’s gaze tracing along the length of each path before turning instead toward the ground. “Well, it would appear that there has been a great number of skittering metal claws heading to the left if the amount of disturbed dust and dirt is any indication,” he began, motioning slightly with a hand. “Though if they’re gravitating towards a centurion or simply towards their work I am admittedly unaware.” A shift of his eyes back up at the womer. “What would be your guess? Since you’re clearly the one with more Dwemer knowledge here.”
“You’ve been to the Imperial City? Work certainly knows no bounds then. Though I thought that Cyrodiil had its own branch of the Brotherhood?” Despite the time spent in Cyrodiil herself, she surprisingly had no contact with any assassins. Brotherhood assassins, that is. However, she had heard whispers at the very least, and in her experience whispers always had a bit of truth in them.
Pythia smiled wryly as she side stepped another pressure plate. “I don’t think Dwemer were so inclined to mourn losses as we do. They built themselves and their culture around knowledge and magical ability. If one was foolish enough to stumble into a trap it would likely quickly forgotten regardless of cause. Charming lot, clearly. The world mourns their absence.” Her tone was dripping with sarcasm as she shook her head. It was then that her ears perked some as they came to a choice. The hallway opened now, going right and left, both ways poorly lit by sputtering gas lamps. “Hm. Well Nor, right or left?”
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Send me a ☼ for my character's reaction to having found yours, fast asleep and half hanging off of the bed/couch.
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send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse ---
alternatively send ‘ + ‘ after the symbol for the roles to be reversed where possible !
✘ = hugging them . Δ = playing with their hair . ♡ = kissing them . ₪ = asking them out for dinner . ☀ = giving them a gift of ___ ( asker’s choice ) . ♘ = stabbing them . ♕ = bowing down before them . ♒ = lying to them . ✿ = buying them flowers . ☾ = being found shirtless . ♢ = reading them a story . ☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm . ✎ = speaking in a different language . ✏ = teaching them a different language . ▄ = telling them a joke . ♬ = singing to them . ☹ = insulting a loved one . ஐ = slapping them . ✂ = threatening them . ❃ = dancing with them . ▤ = falling asleep on them . ☮ = waking them up after a nightmare . ♣ = discovering them crying . 回 = patching a wound . ✮ = stargazing . ▓ = caught stealing their belongings . ☽ = wandering alone at night . ♡ = complimenting them . ≡ = offering a place to stay overnight . ☢ = falling over . ✦ = being well-dressed . ❂ = wiping blood off their face . ◎ = taking care of them while ill . ☁ = being caught in the middle a storm with them . ⇕ = holding their hand . ↱ = being lost with them . ☠ = pushing them against a wall .
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Come into my inbox and try to manipulate my character into doing something.
Make them doubt something, do something they don’t want to do, convince them to hurt someone they love. The sky is the limit.
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“I have done nothing to earn your distrust.”
A slight pause from the Argonian then, Nor’s gaze shifting along the ground for a moment before glancing back up at the other. “...True, you have not. However my lot in life is one where I cannot place my trust in someone just so easily. Especially when I have my daughter’s well-being in addition to my own to consider.” A soft shake of Nor’s head. “Do not take it personally, it is simply a fact of myself that has been ingrained in me for so long that I doubt I will ever be able to rid myself of it.”
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((Apologies all, The Witcher 3 Blood and Wine expansion and Fallout 4 have completely taken over my brief bits of free time over the last couple weeks. I will attempt to put some time aside to reply to things on here though, and many apologies for the extended quiet.))
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((Betty is having just a lovely time in the orange sand this afternoon.))
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→ ❝THE ELDER SCROLLS V: SKYRIM sentence starters❞
“Only cowards hunt animals. True game walks on two legs.”
“What is better — to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?”
“Eyes open. Walk with the shadows.”
“I have done nothing to earn your distrust.”
“Power is inert without action and choice.”
“I presume you’ve already seen some of what I’ve accomplished. There is so, so much more to be done.”
“Perhaps we should find a random stranger to murder. Practice does make perfect.”
“Heard about you and your honeyed words.”
“I fight because I must.”
“Arrogance will serve you poorly.”
“You stink of death, my friend. I salute you.”
“There is murder in the air. I can taste it.”
“My favorite drinking buddy! Let’s get some mead.”
“Do you need all your toes? I could really use a fresh toe for… never mind.”
“Of course you can buy me a drink! You didn’t need to say a word, but I heard you loud and clear.”
“Prophecy tells what may be, not what should be.”
“You are in my power here.”
“Running a little light in the pockets, eh?”
“My blade thirsts for your blood.”
“I once got set on fire by a sorcerer. Nasty business.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Watch the magic!”
“I trust that this is just the beginning of a long and mutually beneficial relationship.”
“You will push the world harder than it pushes back.”
“I know your kind, always sneaking about.”
“Perhaps you aren’t as powerful as you think.”
“Fight well, don’t be a lout, and you’ll be fine.”
“Nice place. I never knew you were so wealthy.”
“You would shut out the darkness?!”
“Look at that. Am I drunk? I must be drunk.”
“You’re not a threat… merely an annoyance.”
“Everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains.”
“You’re losing a lot of blood. Maybe you should sit down for a moment.”
“Get out of here before I toss you out.”
“Good luck with your… um, murders.”
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Reblog if your rp partners (and followers) are great writers and you love each and every one of their portrayals!
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Ask my muse questions about characters you’ve seen them interact with.
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Nor let out a tired sigh, flicking his cloak a bit tighter about his frame as he stepped through the black door leading from the Sanctuary and into Falkreath’s wilderness. This last trip had quite simply been too long of a one, the assassin decided. Perhaps he should take the next few weeks off, maybe take Sophie on a trip down to Whiterun for a supply run or just general leisure. Ah, but he still had a fair walk in front of him before he could even start to think of that. Indeed, Nor was very much looking forward to sleeping in his own bed once-
There’s a distinct shift in the Argonian’s thoughts when he catches a hint of movement out in the darkness, one hand immediately going to his side and one of the daggers that sat under his cloak. Nor practically freezes in his spot as his senses strain to pick out just what had flickered briefly into his view, and gradually the assassin becomes aware of the sound of a number of masses moving through the brush. It certainly didn’t sound quite like deer or wolves, as much as he could tell so far anyway.
And then comes the sound that makes his heart skip a beat, the telltale clink of metal against metal that only made itself known when someone wearing armor was moving about. Nor can’t help but let out an almost silent curse, his other hand swiftly becoming coated in a dull violet glow before the assassin vanishes from sight. This was not a good thing, not at all. But Nor was not about to be stupid about this situation, oh no. He’d let them come a snooping, let them give him a good look at their countenances and judge their intentions while he was still invisible before laying down a sentence. But even regardless of that caution, the Argonian had a feeling that things were not going to end well for whoever these wanderers were.
It was one thing to gang up on a moving caravan for goods and food, but it was another to harass a lone traveler at night. It had happened so fast, one moment she was minding her own business, having spent a trip to the nearby lumber mill to make an order for some logs to be delivered to her brother’s home just past Falkreath. She normally let her brother make the trip, but she needed to get out of her alchemy lab and to get some fresh air.
And then the next thing she knew, she was being chased through the woods by a group of raiders. She’d been able to wound a few of them in her escape but she was still outnumbered four-to-one, and running away was a tactic that she was okay with if it meant she’d live another day.
She could still hear their angry shouts as she sprinted through the foliage of the woods just outside of Falkreath. Hopefully she’d lead them toward the town and the local Guardsmen would finish them off or chase them away at the very least.
Vi’Shir took a split second to glance behind her while she ran. She couldn’t see the bandits that were furiously chasing her, but their heavy footsteps and clanking armor was heard plenty. But for a moment, she lost all concentration when the ground suddenly dropped away from her feet. Her stomach felt as if it was lurched into her throat as she fell down a steep ledge. She tumbled, head over heels for a moment before landing in a small pond of water so black, it was hard to believe it was actually water.
For a long second, she was stunned. There was a pain in her ankle and she realized quickly that it was most likely sprained, but that didn’t stop her from trying to scramble to her feet. Now she was under the weight of her soaked clothes and with an injured ankle, with no way of knowing how far she was from the path, or how far from the town she was. A nearby tree trunk aided in steadying herself while she fought for breath. But she paused, listening. Was that…
Breathing?
Raspy and hollow, a sound that sent chills through her spine and the argonian looked around frantically, fearing that someone was near. But, even in the darkness, she spotted what seemed to be a door with a large skull on it. It was a rather odd place for a door, and she had a sinking feeling that it meant trouble.
Of course her hunch was correct, and she hid behind the tree as the stone door suddenly began to open.
@scalesandsecrets
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