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[stealingstories-blog]

Terran blushed and ducked his head, shaking his head a little as he tried to laugh it off. Compliments always caught him off-guard and he tended to be suspicious about them, expecting to get asked to do something or to be buttered up and manipulated. 

“Ah, you’re better with a bow than me so...” He shrugged. Ellana was also more popular, kinder, energetic, social, and overall good than he was. Not like that was much of a competition considering who Terran was, but still. 

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It was quiet. Terran did not mind the quiet, but sometimes he wished that there was noise. That’s what happened when you were raised in a city, after all. You became used to the noise, the sound of people shouting or fighting or just of people living. Out in the forest there was life, but somehow it was more quiet than any night in Denerim.

Or perhaps it was just tense. Terran didn’t know if he was supposed to say something. If he was, he didn’t know what he could say. Though this was hardly the first mission they had gone on together, somehow they weren’t any closer than when they had woken up in a cell and been accused of murdering the divine and a few hundred other people.

Terran knew he was not a good person. He just hoped that he wasn’t so bad of a person as to be responsible for something like that.

He stopped and looked around, examining the forest for any sign that they were going the right way. The group had quickly learned that putting Terran in charge of navigation was a bad idea, rogue training or not, and Cassandra had actually taken charge of the maps.

Well, she had after Terran had managed to lead them into a clearing full of bears. That had been bad. 

“Everything okay, Noisy?” Varric asked, using his nickname for Terran. 

“Yes. I was trying to see where we are.” 

“Ah, right. Leave that to the rest of us, okay?” Varric pat him on the back. “No more bears.” 

“No more bears,” Terran agreed. 

The Trek || Closed

@stealingstories

                            Silence.

    A complete and utter absence of sound. It wasn’t a word that described the current atmosphere. Birds in the trees tweeted and called for one another. Wind blew through the rustling red trees. Water trickled from a nearby stream which the group had been following for some time now. The silence referred here is the silence between them. Words were hardly exchanged. A witty comment here and there or a question. Eon specifically wasn’t one to talk or take initiative. He desperately wished that the situation he was in was some terrible dream that the Maker is forcing on him to reflect on himself or some sick demonic possession. Though he knew it was an empty wish.

    If the others were talking, he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were focused either on his feet, his 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀 or at the path that lay ahead. His ears perked at the crunching leaves. Every time someone in the group took a step, he thought about where exactly they were stepping and what to do if there were some sort of ambush. The strategies became boring and repetitive all too fast. 

    Eon attempted to find something else to occupy his mind. His eyes wandered as his mind did to think of ideas. Upon looking at Solas, the mage of the group, he wondered if it was a good idea to confess something. Eon looked at his hips to remind himself that he appeared as only a rogue, daggers hanging in their sheaths. He would make a rather useless mage since he never honed his skills. Solas was a hedge mage like him, so perhaps he wouldn’t be ridiculed? Though Solas was ridiculed by Cassandra; she said she didn’t trust him and would keep an eye on him (although she wasn’t doing so at the moment). He thought it better to keep it to himself. 

                               The Silence persisted.

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Maker, this is such a bad idea, Terran thought as he listened to Wren and tried to fight down the very present urge to take off and run for it. Terran didn’t know if his advisors would agree. He didn’t know the slightest thing about Wren other than what the elf claimed to be the truth. 

“Where are you staying? I, uh, need to know so I can come find you. Later. If you get accepted. By my advisors.” Terran wondered if his speech was sounding as choppy and hesitant as it felt or if his mind was playing tricks on him again. He didn’t know if there was a good answer.

He swallowed and pulled his lock picks out instinctually, flipping them through his fingers and using them to fidget with. It helped calm him and focus his mind a little better. 

“Also, uh, you don’t need to call me ser or Inquisitor or... Well, anything like that. Terran’s fine. Just Terran.” 

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If Wren was half as good as he claimed, he would be a fine asset for any team. Usually Terran was the only rogue needed, but from time to time he would bring Sera or Varric when he needed some arrows shot in the right person.

Terran nodded slowly, thinking it over. As far as he could tell, Wren just wanted a trip out towards the Dales. Well, not a trip but an opportunity to be part of an expedition. It would need some talking with his advisors, since Terran was too anxious to ever make a decision without their input, but he couldn’t see why not to bring Wren.

“Erm, sure?” No, Maker’s breath, why did I just say that. “I mean, I’ll talk to my advisors. I’m sure it’ll be fine. You, uh, what else can you do?” Shut up shut up shut up.

“ I … ” 

 Wren stopped.     Wait, did he just … okay it?     He didn’t even know him.     If it were Wren, he would’ve had a background check done, a few rounds of combat training, and even then he still wouldn’t trust them to have his back.     Or maybe that’s what he meant from   ‘ I’ll talk to my advisors. ’     But it was still so … casual.     He thought he would have to fight for it. 

“ Thank you, uh, ser. ”     He blinked, eyes returning to the floor.     “ I’m … a little skilled with animals.      Specifically halla.     I, um … I also do well with weapon mechanisms, like crossbows and combination daggers.     Also leatherwork.     Leather’s my … my specialty … ”     

Stop stuttering.     You sound like an idiot.

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Despite himself, Terran found himself letting out a sigh of relief as the apple was cleanly shot off his head. He chuckled and ducked his head, nodding as the two of them switched places. Because he used daggers he was a little closer, but the premise was the same. 

He let out a breath and he focused on the bright green piece of fruit that sat neatly on Ellana’s red hair. Terran had done this many times when he was younger, as it was a favorite game among the younger Jennies, but it was still nerve-wracking.

Also if he killed his fellow Inquisitor, the rest of the world was doomed so that added a bit of pressure. 

Terran threw his dagger cleanly through the air and it landed, blade first, in the apple. A heavy sigh of relief escaped him as he leaned forward and offered Ellana a small grin.

[ @ellanasha-lavellan // Terran Got Run Over by a Halla ] 

If she hits me, I will actually die, Terran thought as he stared down Ellana. Well, not her specifically, but rather the bow and the arrow knocked in the string. The apple on his head was feeling heavier than an apple had any right to be and Terran wondered if he would get yelled at for ducking when she shot. 

“The day is getting older,” Terran called out, hoping he sounded more calm and confident than he felt. His palms were sweaty. Despite having seen Ellana kill a Red Templar by shooting through their helmet’s eye slits at more than fifty yards, somehow Terran was convinced that she would miss an apple on his head at less than twenty yards away. 

[stealingstories-blog]

If Wren was half as good as he claimed, he would be a fine asset for any team. Usually Terran was the only rogue needed, but from time to time he would bring Sera or Varric when he needed some arrows shot in the right person.

Terran nodded slowly, thinking it over. As far as he could tell, Wren just wanted a trip out towards the Dales. Well, not a trip but an opportunity to be part of an expedition. It would need some talking with his advisors, since Terran was too anxious to ever make a decision without their input, but he couldn’t see why not to bring Wren.

“Erm, sure?” No, Maker’s breath, why did I just say that. “I mean, I’ll talk to my advisors. I’m sure it’ll be fine. You, uh, what else can you do?” Shut up shut up shut up.

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Okay, good, I shouldn’t know his name, Terran selfishly thought. It was just a little edge off his anxiety, knowing that this wasn’t someone he had talked to before and then managed to forget. 

Terran didn’t necessarily like being treated like he was some kind of god, but he was unfortunately getting used to it. 

He kicked at the ground, shrugging a little. “I have never heard of that name before. I, uh, I assume you have skills as a rogue?” Terran motioned vaguely to the elf’s uniform. “Also, uh, just call me Terran. What’s your name?”

“ Wren.     Best hunter in my clan, trained as a duelist in Denerim. ”

He wasn’t bragging, simply stating the truth.     Not that it would matter in the long run–there were many, including the Inquisitor, who were likely much more skilled than he.     But the fact of the matter was that he could hold his own.

“ I’ll do what it takes.     Take me along and I’ll … I’ll do whatever you need me to do.     My needs take no priority. ”     Wren shifted, working himself up to look Terran in the eye.     “ Once you set me loose, I’ll even do my searching on my own so you can focus on your mission. ”     I work better on my own, anyway.

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Okay, good, I shouldn’t know his name, Terran selfishly thought. It was just a little edge off his anxiety, knowing that this wasn’t someone he had talked to before and then managed to forget. 

Terran didn’t necessarily like being treated like he was some kind of god, but he was unfortunately getting used to it. 

He kicked at the ground, shrugging a little. “I have never heard of that name before. I, uh, I assume you have skills as a rogue?” Terran motioned vaguely to the elf’s uniform. “Also, uh, just call me Terran. What’s your name?”

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The pain faded quickly, leaving the warm rush of embarrassment to color Terran’s face. He quickly put his dagger back on his belt and shook his head, wracking his brain for the other elf’s name. 

“It isn’t a bad time, no,” Terran replied, ducking his head and scratching at the back of his neck. “Did you, uh, did you have something to say? Or ask? Or… something?” 

Wren tightly wrapped his arms around his own torso as he stepped closer–not too close, just a step–toward the Inquisitor.     Fingers toyed with the straps on his armor, pressing his nails into the leather, indenting their prints into it.     What was the question again?     Shit.     Shit.     He couldn’t think.

“ You’re– ”     He realized he wasn’t breathing and finally took a deep breath, avoiding the other’s gaze.     “ I know you’re busy.     Obviously, being the Herald of Andrea or … whatever the human god is, I don’t know.     But I’m growing desperate. ”     A drop of sweat beaded down his neck, and he wiped it away quickly, continuing.     “ I am looking for someone in the Dales.      Mihren Eolas Dianisamahl.     I don’t expect you to immediately trust that I have good intentions, but if I could accompany you the next time you go to the Exalted Plains, I would greatly appreciate it.     I need to know if my father is still alive. ”

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The pain faded quickly, leaving the warm rush of embarrassment to color Terran’s face. He quickly put his dagger back on his belt and shook his head, wracking his brain for the other elf’s name. 

“It isn’t a bad time, no,” Terran replied, ducking his head and scratching at the back of his neck. “Did you, uh, did you have something to say? Or ask? Or... something?” 

cont’d from X     //     @stealingstories

Shit.     

Wren jumped a little when the other elf cut himself, bracing himself back behind the wall in panic, then sighed.     What’s the point?     He already saw you.     He peeked back around the corner; he was sucking on his finger, trying to stop the bleeding.

“ Inquisitor. ”     Wren cleared his throat, walking around the corner.     “ I … I apologize for surprising you.     Is this a bad time?     Perhaps I should leave. ”

[stealingstories-blog]

“May I please draw your OC?”

Reblog this message if you encourage anyone that wants to draw your OC to do so.  No need to ask for permission in advance.

Go for it.  Draw my OC.  If you want, I’ll even give you reference posts.  Go to town on it.

You are welcome to draw my OC and surprise me with the result.  Seriously.  In fact, I encourage it.  I will proudly display whatever it is you submit to me regarding my OC.  There is a chance that I will squeal about it for several days.

Even if you feel you aren’t good at whatever artistic adventure it is you do, please feel free to submit it to me.  I want to see what you have done.

[stealingstories-blog]

Fidgety hands still on the corner of the wall, peeking around it at the Inquisitor. Wren simply stares, eyes darting back and forth between Terran and the mark on the man's hand. Does he ask him? Does he go back to the library and sulk on it some more? Hell. This is too hard. // (aka Terran has a visitor who thinks he's sneakier than he really is)

Terran stood in a side room, casually flipping one of his smaller daggers in his hand as his anxiety grew. He waited for Leliana to come talk to him about news concerning the Red Templars but she was late and he didn’t like it when plans were disturbed. 

He stilled as he glanced around, eyes landing on a pale, brown-haired elf who was looking back at him.

Shamefully, Terran almost dropped his dagger out of surprise. He sliced his finger and swore, grabbing it and sucking on it while backing away from the stranger. 

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[ @ellanasha-lavellan // Terran Got Run Over by a Halla ] 

If she hits me, I will actually die, Terran thought as he stared down Ellana. Well, not her specifically, but rather the bow and the arrow knocked in the string. The apple on his head was feeling heavier than an apple had any right to be and Terran wondered if he would get yelled at for ducking when she shot. 

“The day is getting older,” Terran called out, hoping he sounded more calm and confident than he felt. His palms were sweaty. Despite having seen Ellana kill a Red Templar by shooting through their helmet’s eye slits at more than fifty yards, somehow Terran was convinced that she would miss an apple on his head at less than twenty yards away. 

[stealingstories-blog]

[ This is a STARTER CALL for your boy Terran Red. Hit LIKE and I’ll see what I come up with, MESSAGE me if you want to plot anything specific ] 

[stealingstories-blog]

whoop, sorry if this is weird @ekoorb03, @tennyo-elf, and @scatteringmyashes but I wanted to do some warm ups and your inquisitors are so pretty that I had to draw them

I’m sorry if they came up weird or wrong. 

[stealingstories-blog]

listen, i’m soft and anxious and i’m just trying not to get hurt.

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[ Are you ANXIOUS and hate CONFLICT? Do you have trouble EXPRESSING your most basic human/elven emotions? Are there years days where you just want to SLEEP and IGNORE all of your responsibilities? Then hit LIKE/REBLOG to have one TERRAN RED, unwilling Inquisitor of the Inquisition, head over to your inbox/blog! Just make sure all your valuables are nailed down ]

this blog is not responsible for any tears, mysteriously lost items, dire miscommunications, or avoidance of responsibilities that may occur after interaction

[stealingstories-blog]

big elf ears > small slightly pointed elf ears that are basically human ears

reblog if u agree