#;stormsiris ( brail )

[oathtorn]

Wed, bed, behead — Lucan, Brail, and Valas

"Behead the half-elf. That would shut his mouth for good." There is no hesitation. Whatever animosity she has towards the drow is far outweighed by the insufferable headache that is the mage.

"Wed the high elf. He needs only to decorate the room for a while, I would expect him to die from poison quite early."

"Bed the insolent boy. I highly doubt he has it in him to please me — or any woman for that matter —, but at the very least I would enjoy greatly tying him up, and test how much pain he is capable of enduring."

[stxrmstained]

Brail likes to be by himself when there are thunder storms or heavy rain since he considers it a good time to think. It’s like one of the only times he’s not a chatterbox. I like the headcanon that he’d sit Seira and just listen to the rain and thunder. He’s fine with Seira there

Headcanons about our muses!

// I LOVE THIS. seira often gets too excited and would be out there getting soaked and laughing and sticking his tongue out to taste rain as though it's the first time he's ever seen a storm. But he calms down eventually, and I can see Seira sitting by Brail's side in silence for a change, probably meditating

[inabsentiiarch]

@stormsiris sent: sender kisses receiver on the collarbone ( accepting )

The day had been a tiring one, to say the least. Lucan truly couldn't really remember the last time he had been invited to an event of this nature. Most of them, after all, were hosted by nobles who nowadays looked at the high elf with some degree of disdain.

It had also been a while since the last time he had had to dress so formally. But as he glanced over his own reflection on the room's mirror, now undoing the sleeve buttons, he couldn't say he disliked the way the attire fitted him. And he was aware that somebody else in the room shared that opinion.

The suit jacket had just been carefully left aside when he sensed the half-elf's presence moving closer. Keen eyes watched the fighter undo the buttons of his shirt. "You are a little distracted tonight." a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips following the playful words, just as a hand reaches to pull down the fabric to expose his shoulder and collarbone. A gesture that he offers no resistance to.

And then, when the distance between them is nearly gone completely, Brail closes the small gap pressing a kiss against the protruding bone. right below the scar over his throat. A sigh escapes the redhead and his smile turns into a soft grin. Head tilting lightly as a welcoming sign to the loving touch. A string of warm laughter comes out like ringing bells.

"If I didn't know you any better, I would think you are trying to seduce me." He jokes teasingly, in a low voice.

[wvrlock]

Do u have any ships you consider canon for any of your muses?

// I have some! If you meet Fallahan in his Age of Arcanum verse, he is most likely entangled with @vchloras's Loras (and possibly Vespin). In his main/BG3 verse, he also dated @entwinesfate's Lorelei a couple of decades ago.

Amasteia was married to @ardentfew's Nalfein. She never officially divorced, but she did stab him in the eye. Seira will selectively be in a relationship with Wyll in verses where I'm not shipping with my writing partner, and Xarzzas once dated @dridurge, before Belarryn and the ritual.

Outside of that... I have plenty of verses and ramifications of them, all of which are canon in one way or another. For example, Fallahan's relationship with @stormsiris is canon in some verses where Brail is involved but they aren't messing around anymore. And @stagsworn is often my go-to "canon" relationship for Fallahan if I have to give him one, since he and Valas have a long story, and lots of plotting behind them.

[voiceofduality]

@stormsiris 🌈🌷for Fal of course

"You look almost civilized when you're dancing." He wouldn't expect any less from a man of such nimble feet and gallant charm — and noble upbringing. Fallahan, too, had to learn a few dance steps, first thing after being taken under Bertram's wing, but he's never found that much joy in the act of dancing itself.

Rather, it was more about the company, or the intention behind it. It was about the intimacy, the subtle seduction. Having both parts share a common understanding for once was a surprisingly comfortable change of pace. Brail holds his waist firmly, and Fallahan's fingers play with a few loose hairs on the back of his neck in turn. And though etiquette probably calls for a bit of space between them, none of them seem particularly preoccupied about that in the present moment.

Rather, they use the crowd that shields them against curious stares to share flirtations and touches that many would consider too indecent for a formal ball.

Not that either of them was actually invited, anyway.

They have been playing around for a while, lips dancing around the other's, close enough to feel each other's breath but never quite touching. Fallahan caresses the half-elf's cheek and leans in again, tantalizingly close. He tightens the embrace and sighs on Brail's lips, eyes closed — only to be opened again after the sorcerer finally succumbs and kisses him. The bard chuckles to himself, proud of his small victory.

[ashenvoid]

          ❝   How does this work? Can you make 𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 with your...lightning?   ❞

  ---   𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩.   for @stormsiris​​ from trym tealeaf.

[sauinese]

         “ hey, brail! ” leonie waves him down across the dining hall, smiling, and begins walking towards him.  “ i was gonna cook for our class tonight.  the cooks said i had permission to prepare the game i shot yesterday, and, well, ” as she stops speaking, she finally arrives directly in front of him.  the grin on her face is as big as ever, excitement bubbling up in her expression.  “ i could honestly use a helping hand preparing this much meat.  i heard you like cooking, but if not, don’t worry about it.  maybe i could make lorenz get his hands dirty. ”

@stormsiris​.

[volkzima]

@stormsiris said:♡ *sets gingerly on table without Brail’s permission*

                                shippy talk  //  ✧  come step into my office…

i am down and i wish brail all the luck in the world because felix is difficult as hell. but by all means, please try and woo him i beg you  ---

[demuradonna]

"Hilda, don't think I didn't think of you this year as well." He produces a thick hand-carved wooden box from behind his back, a ribbon delicately twirled in rivets of silver and red keeping it closed. Inside was an artisan collection of crafting stones, perfect for the beautiful trinkets she makes. He gives her a lofty smirk, "...Best you don't ask how I got that, it took some pretty laborious wordcraft by your dear, sparky merchant friend."

♡ ·  Unprompted  //  Always Accepting, Even if Tumblr Didn’t Notify me  —  · ♡

       ❝  Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything, silly.  ❞  SHE COOS, A BRILLIANT SMILE LIGHTING HER FEATURES  as carmine irises glint with a hint of amusement. The sight of the wooden box  (  and the pretty little ribbon accompanying it  ——  )  despite his words is still a surprising, but delightful, sight. Truly, she hadn’t thought about receiving a gift in return when she’d delivered his  —  she had merely wanted to give him something nice. Something that showed how much she appreciated him. She hadn’t been looking for anything in return. Still…the idea that he went out of his way to do so regardless warmed her heart.

       ALL CHILDISH IMPULSES TAKE OVER HER IN THE MOMENT,  delicate digits tugging carefully at the ribbon in order to pull the lid from the wooden confines. Her smile falters briefly, eyes widening at the sight before her. Beautiful stones for crafting  —  some of which, she’d been searching far and wide for  —  nested neatly atop dark velvet, so as to ensure no scratches or harm would come to them in their travels.  ❝  Brail…  ❞  Index finger gently tracing the outline of a fire opal,  (  a rare gem, sought most often for it’s unique appearance  ——  )  she’s breathless as her lips slowly begin to curl into a softer, more genuine smile.

       ❝  I’ll admit, not asking how you got your hands on these is really, really hard  —  ❞  SHE EMPHASIZES AS SHE GINGERLY  places the lid back upon the container, hands pulling the box in close to be cradled  (  almost adoringly so, like it were a child  ——  )  against her chest.  ❝  But I won’t. Not right now, anyway.  ❞  Gaze shifting slowly from the gift to Brail’s face, she giggles softly before reaching out with one arm to tug him into a hug.

       ❝  Thank you soooooo much! I love it! I’ll be sure to make something extra special with these! It’ll be one of my best pieces yet, I promise!  ❞  AND WITH THAT,  she turns on her heels and begins to bound off towards her room. She has so much inspiration, and she just can’t help but to go and get started on crafting right away! It isn’t as though anyone particularly needs her right now anyway, right? Surely her duties could wait a few…hours…on behalf of the name of art and fashion!

[somniatcr]

      if he’s heedless, such behavior isn’t applicable solely to the battlefield  ( though most would likely assume as much; those who have known him the longest, perhaps, most of all );  it trickles in, spills over into his every day life, into the actions  ( large and insignificant alike )  that he takes, into the words, intrepid and bold, that roll from off his tongue. it isn’t that he’s a fool, nor is it a lack of care, but rather simply that, at times, little regard is paid to consequence, to the fate of his own well-being. 

      which is why he is so quick to halt before the door before him, fingers grasping hold of the handle though he hasn’t knocked; it’s why he twists it without warning, pushing against the wood and granting himself entrance to the room without asking, without permission. and which is how eyes come to find themselves catching sight of something he, most certainly, had not been meant to see; gaze falling from hair unbound to a back exposed, bronzed flesh seared with scars, branches of lightning that splay across the surface, and bearing a symbol that, though is different from his own, is all too easy to distinguish all the same--- a crest. he had a crest.

      mouth opens, falls closed. opens again.  ‘ guess i should’ve knocked first, huh. ‘

      for @stormsiris !

[goldguile]

stormsiris replied to your post: “maybe i’m getting a little carried away.”

No no no Claude you’re so close you can have ONE HOUR of time to have fun

“no, i think this break has run its course. i’m sure you’ve heard, but mr. goose is under the protection of both house riegan and the church of seiros. i know it’s utterly ridiculous, but if you ever end up in that sort of situation, please make sure nothing happens to him.”

[voiceofduality]

He hardly ever woke later than his company. Yet, he was particularly spent the night before. So spent was he that his memory of him was more hazy than acute, more raw was the desire for him that night than what already came natural. Ah, but he was gone again, of course, always fleeing before morning light. The half-elf sat at the window, in the still fresh sunlight, dragging old strings from his bag. Strange, after all that--still he feels only spent. He plays, idle, lazy somehow in the accuracy and precision of the notes, a voice sounding as if just remembering the words he would speak in melody, "....Oh how I'm flying like a bird to you now. I was housed by your warmth, and thus transformed, by your grounded and giving and darkening scorn...remember me, love, when I'm reborn...as the shrike to your sharp, and glorious thorn."

Most times he would leave right away, when he's been around long enough to not be seen as outright rude, but not so long that the silence becomes awkward. Sometimes he rests for a few hours, before he quietly leaves.

Lately, they've shared a bed a few times. Out of convenience, of course. The nights have grown colder, and he can always appreciate a comfortable, warm and already paid for room to meditate until morning. Back to back, trying to keep his mind distracted from the warmth of the body lying beside him. But even he had to admit there was a charm to not sleeping alone for a change.

The female voice in his mind playfully teases him about his life decisions during their conversations at night. He's pretty, she says. Not as pretty as Fallahan himself, but she enjoys the view. The warlock chuckles quietly.

Still, he gets up and gets dressed before the sun is up. The aroma of fresh bread fills his senses as he intends to leave the establishment, and though he would rather not risk seeing him again — not during this day, at least —, he stays for breakfast. Just a little longer.

And once again, after he's finally out in the streets, his steps come to a halt. The pavement is still wet from last night, and as the faint smell of petrichor comes to him, so does a familiar voice — he stays put, back against the wall, where he's sure he won't be seen, and listens.

He tends to forget the power a few notes and a simple melody can have over him. How the music moves and soothes him. The shivers, the tingle in his chest. The butterflies. The escapism. His heart feels warm and full, and so comfortable that he, for once... doesn't feel like running from it.

The bard closes his eyes and sinks into the melody, and this bit of stolen intimacy.

Maybe...

Maybe he will stay in town today, and ask for a place to play for the evening.

[thcpipcr]

“   you’re  lucky  you’re  cute .   ”

Settling back with a shrug and a raised brow expression that clearly emoted that he didn’t quite disagree, he plants his gaze across the room, pointedly making it known that he wasn’t about to look at Brail.

“Come now…  Surely you can do better than ‘cute.’“

[sauinese]

"Leonie, why." In all consequence, the question comes out of nowhere. He drops his head against a hand, gold eyes watching her with some exaggerated exhaustion and frustration, "...I literally--cannot think of anything. Why must you be so difficult?"

unprompted chaos, always accepting, @stormsiris.

         truly, due to the nature of her upbringing, leonie sees nothing wrong with her habit.  collect others’ leftovers, their trash, and turn them into meaningful trinkets to give to friends, or useful items that could come in handy during hunting and fishing trips.  metal scraps turned into fishing hooks, saving old, scribbled - in notebooks as campfire starters, turning broken hairbands into tiny slingshots to practice her aim with.  

         despite the usefulness of these things, it does make for an absolute catastrophe in leonie’s room on the days she’d spend hours just digging through other people’s things.  perhaps that was something that leonie couldn’t help wasting in this situation:  time.  there are several materials scattered everywhere, a half - rusted lance beside her ( open can of oil included! she intends on cleaning up the weapon, she swears ), and two full garbage bags full of goddess knows what behind her.  “ brail, does my hobby really bother you so much?  honestly, it’s not like i’m forcing you to look, ” leonie snaps, orange brows lowered in mild irritation.  her gaze lingers on him now that she’s ceased what she’s doing to stare.  he’s taken a single look into her space and criticized her without any hint as to what she’s actually doing, and that doesn’t settle well in her stomach — like a mixture of oil and water. 

         her tone is bitter and flustered, and there’s a bite to it.  “ i apologize for leaving my door open wide enough that you could see the chaos in here.  it’ll be tidied up before nightfall.  just— don’t patronize me, again got it?  and shut the door on your way out. ”  and with that, she’s gone back to dipping the dirtied rag in her hand into the can of oil, lathering up the length of the lance to try to remedy its rust, all the while thinking of things she could morph the scraps around her into.

[detheknyght]

“ i prefer dining  alone … ”

@stormsiris​   liked for a starter

[volkzima]

*BURSTS THROUGH DOOR* Gimme that kid meme coward you wont--

                                ✧  kiddos  //  open.  ✧

Name: Dareios Galen Thadwell-Fraldarius.

Gender: Cis Male.

General appearance: Adopted from an orphanage deep within Goneril territory and very close to the Almyran border, Dareios is a fine example of a young Almyran boy  —  sunkissed skin, a lean build, though admittedly rather stunted in the height department…likely due to a lack of proper nutrition, unfortunately. He’s got beautifully striking eyes, though  —  nearly golden in their honey like coloring. His hair is dark, chocolate brown in color and is long and suuuuuuper curly! Usually, his bangs curl right into his eyes and cover his forehead, while the rest of his hair is pulled back into a big, fluffy ponytail…with a nice, neat little braid framing each side of his face.

Personality: He’s a pretty boy, and he fucking knows it. He’s extremely confident in himself, and as such he’s super charismatic and charming  —  something that only grows over time after being around Brail for long enough. He’s also quite a gossiper no thanks to Brail, too. His temper is extremely volatile, however, and he’s quick to lash out at others, friend and foe alike. He’s also ridiculously slow to open to and trust others, given the early stages of his upbringing. He’s a sweet boy underneath all of it though, and is more than proud to strut about like the work of art that he sees himself as, much to Felix’s dismay. He prides himself on his abilities with a blade, however, and knows when his more easygoing attitude is best pushed aside. He’s smart as a whip, just…super emotionally vulnerable is the best way to put it.

Special talents: He got great blade skills, and he’s pretty decent with thunder magic, too! Who needs crests when you can just shank your opponent and fry them from the inside out, right????? He won’t say it aloud but…he’s actually not a half bad dancer, either…

Who they like better: He loves both of his fathers, tyvm.

Who they take after more: I mean…it’s a pretty decent split from what he does pick up from Brail AND Felix, sooooooo…

Personal headcanon: He’s got a really pretty beauty mark underneath his right eye, and while he’s normally super confident, his beauty mark actually embarrasses the hell outta him. He WILL squirm and turn into a dark red mess if it’s pointed out to him. HE SEES IT AS A FLAW ON HIS PERFECT SKIN AND HATES IT!!!!!