#ROOK LADAIR — GENERAL.

[driofaire]

Treviso was beautiful at night. Rook hadn't ever really had the opportunity to explore the streets beyond the docks themselves, and now she thought that was truly a pity. It was a smaller city, and miniscule in comparison to Minthrathous. That was the way of things really, wasn't it? Comparing the sizes of things to others and marvelling at the differences. In comparison to the others she had visited, it never seemed to settle into the comfortable silences the others always had. Where merchants selling their spices and vegetables went to bed, other places that offered food, drink or entertainment yawned to life. Not quite as slowly as the lazy mornings, but quickly enough that the day crowd made way for ...

Something glittery caught Rook's eye. She would always be a pirate before she was a treasure hunter. A shiny trinket coveting magpie whose attention was caught quickly by the glint of something worth buying. She'd not had much time nor the coin to truly spoil herself in the past year as she had helping out Varric. He was a good person to know, with eyes and ears in places one wouldn't expect. The journey to find where her story had truly begun was an elusive one, indeed.

This particular trinket was a little too muted for her tastes. A well-carved and polished crow's head, the feathers engraved into the darkness of it and the lines filled with gold paint. Polished enough that, even under the softness of lantern light, caught the flames well.

"Hang about a second, Lucanis," she said, and reached out to touch it. Soft and smooth. A good gift, outside of the little coffee set she had been eyeballing the previous week. Rook plucked it from the stand, and moved to dig into her little coin purse. It was running a little light in the absence of solid work, but nothing that couldn't be replenished once the world wasn't about to take a nose dive for the worst. Three gold for something so small felt like daylight robbery -- or, considering it was evening time, a perfectly normal one!

She would not embarrass herself by trying to haggle them down to something a little less extortionate. The exchange passed, and she turned to offer it to the crow.

"A little on the nose, but I couldn't resist."

@dellamuertos / closed starter. ( NON RP BLOGS DNI ).

[driofaire]

"What's not to like?" It was said with an easy enough smile. She'd seen wisps like this when they'd made the journey to pay Emmrich a visit; little souls that could help out wherever needed. Rook quite liked them. They reminded her of the stories her mother had told her when she was little, of little lights that would either lure a man to his death, or guide one home in the thickest of fogs. She felt something settle in her stomach, heavy and unwelcome. Rook cleared her throat. Not the time for melancholy.

"I brought a spare glass," she replied happily. "Just in case you took a notion for a bit of company with your food."

' guess they just like me. ' were she writing serials, she'd likely make some allusion to how lost souls simply gravitated to her, but she was too cynical for that. leaning against her desk, her eyes shifted from the floating wisps all around to look at what she'd brought in. she'd never been a picky eater herself-- detective work didn't exactly bring in gold-- and the easier it was to multitask while eating, the better.

' what about you? i don't think i should finish a bottle of wine myself. '

[driofaire]

Bleep, bloop.

I can't ship Rook with Solas, based largely on the fact that, even before Varric was injured, everything she had heard about him had been entirely negative. Everything she knows about him is based solely on what Varric has told her, which, upon meeting him at the ritual site? Was quite literally that he was going to tear the world apart. People were going to get killed in a large scale, and even when she is stood across from him in the fade?

There would no fond feelings there at all, regardless of what anecdotes Varric may have fed her. I understand the perceived chemistry there, and I do not judge anyone who does ship it.

Solas is built up to be an enemy in Rook's head from day one.

[driofaire]

🥴 to Mari and Shi'ndra i'm taking notes

This is a man who, like yoghurt lids, needs to be topped and licked. While there is some measure of enjoyment with rough sex, he does tend to prefer being handled gently. Something done with feeling is his absolute favourite thing in the world. His favourite thing is when a woman is working her way down, and they lick from where his pubic hair begins riiiight the way up to his belly button. That, and if he's insulted and bullied repeatedly, he will absolutely find that delightful on the basis that there's no legitimate hate behind the words. Physically, his favourite thing about women is the little baby hairs on the napes of their necks when they have their hair up. Little wisps that don't fit into what's holing the rest of it up. Also breasts. The man loves himself a pair of tits-/shot

Rook loves confidence. Forwardness, especially. As much as the art of seduction can come slow and sensually, she's far more of a rough and tumble sort of woman. Dirty talk, hard bites, hair pulling; she's tried the softness of so-called lovemaking, and it's far, far too slow for her. I think her having been a pirate also factors into the fact that any lovers she may take must also smell good. One of her favourite things is freshly washed (and dried) hair. Body hair on men, soft, squishy thighs on women.

FROM THIS MEME RIGHT HERE.

[driofaire]

The Lords of Fortune was large enough that it felt like an impossibility to meet them all. It was the same for every other faction; some had their cliques, and others were a little more elusive and avoidant of large groups. Rook, herself, favoured sneaking in when the Hall of Valour was at its quietest, where pirates and mercenaries alike were sleeping off the hangovers paid for by a job well done. Rook had never seen Taash before. And Taash stood out. Not as a peculiarity, but as someone who stood head, shoulders (and a handful of ribs) above the rest.

One thing Rook knew about Lords of Fortune was the fact that, like herself, they tended to jingle when they walked. It was the jewellery. Gold and shiny enough that it caught the sun, and shone spectacularly in the lighthouse. "Got something for you, Taash." Rook probably could've knocked first, rather than shouldering her way through the door to make a beeline for her friend. "While we were exploring the beaches a few days ago, I found something you might like." Cradled in the cup of her hands, there would sit a piece of sea glass; cleaned and polished, and decorated with lines of gold and white paint to mimic the break of waves against the sand. Hand painted, if the smudges and smears over Rook's fingers were anything to go by. In the top of it, there was a hole, and a chain of gold (or something like it) was threaded through the top.

"I figured, what with the motto being For Gold and Glory, it would be rather fetching." She moved to let it dangle off the tip of her finger and her smile widened into a broad grin. Rook wiggled it, as though that would entice them to take it from her.

@fademade / closed starter / taash.

[driofaire]

From one port to another, Rook had seen them all. The good, the bad, the ugly and the breathtakingly beautiful. Never, really, all stood in the same room debriefing and sharing their thoughts on the situation at hand. She'd welcomed the distraction of it all; Ancient Elven Gods, the Blight, whatever fucking else would be thrown at them in the days to come. Perhaps that is precisely why standing in the kitchen, beside the warmth and crackle of the fire, drinking herself silly had felt so sweet.

It was a small patch of normality when everything was anything but. Rook saw Ren's smile, and matched it with one of her own. Crooked, ragged, all pointed teeth and shiny eyes that were just a little out of focus.

Normal, Rook decided as she moved to pour Ren a generous helping of her own, Would be very lovely, indeed. She realised this looked as though she were judging her table manners and, as if to prove a wordless point, took a little sip. Her tongue and teeth felt almost numb, and tingled as it went down.

"Alright, alright. Let's see here. I got it." There was a small purse of her lips. "Kiss, marry, kill. Davrin, Taash and our beloved and ever useful caretaker."

Andraste's tits, she hoped that said caretaker did not have its listening ears on.

ren smiles at rook's concession, even if it's not really a concession. ❝ ha! i knew it. ❞

and, okay, so here's the thing with ren, right? she likes to look. it has sort of been ingrained in her, considering her upbringing. when people are pretty, especially when it's borderline effortless, you look at them. and she's never been quite repressed but, well. courting is different when you're Important. which maybe sounds a bit conceited but ren's not the one that decided that's the way it is, all right, don't blame her for it.

but courting is different. and for her, specifically, it's especially different when you're Important-But-Not-Important. when you're supposed to be important, but something is wrong with you. when you're supposed to be important, but you're not good enough to deserve it.

so, well. it would likely be fair to say that ren has some issues, when it comes to all this. which is so beyond not the point but she's maybe having a bit of a Thing About It at the moment.

so perhaps she's just the littlest bit distracted, tipsy thoughts running away with her, when rook answers her. and the other fills up her glass instead of swigging straight from the bottle, which makes something in the back of ren's mind snap at her. improper, it sneers ; no manners, it chastises. she drowns it with more wine.

and then rook goes and suggests that and, well. who is ren to deny a game of something that will absolutely get them teased if they're walked in on? ❝ oh my gods, yes absolutely we are. ❞

she shrugs at the last bit, pushing some of her hair out of her face. it's a bit of a mess, probably, fading red waves falling from the haphazard braid she's never quite managed to master. ❝ who cares? i'll even go first, if it makes you feel better. ❞

[driofaire]

"There is a time for us to wander, when time is young and so are we." Rook didn't know if she was trying to reassure herself or Asharen. Everything up until this point had been a complete and dizzying mess of being pulled this way or that with little room to catch their breaths between. The Inquisitor had been welcomed with open arms, if it meant fixing everything that had been undone. Rook offered her a plate of shoddily put together food, with a cautious glance towards the closed door to the right of the fireplace. "Only wish we had a little more of it. I think we're all run ragged at the moment, and that means there's no better time than to plant our arses, stuff our faces and get to know each other a little."

Send me a number from 1-100 for a starter based on that song, or 🎁 for me to shuffle. ↳ 82. The Dillards -- There Is a Time. / @mercysought. (Asharen, please <3).

[driofaire]

how do you need to be touched?

𝑹𝑶𝑶𝑲.

𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚 — your teeth are bared, as they have been, your jaw aching for so long as growls slip free. you always have to defend yourself. you lash out in fear. you need someone who does not shrink back... a hand falling slowly to your shoulder, however briefly, in a reminder that you do not have to lunge. there is no danger here, now.

𝑺𝑯𝑰'𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑨.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 — you need to be held as though you're going to break. you need someone to trace your scars like cracks in a wall, crumbling. their touch is almost painful; you've been without it for too long, without someone to hold you. but, you cannot bring yourself to pull away.

[driofaire]

> 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐓 : An aesthetics dash game.

𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒. a warm hearth. lovingly sewn buttons. the search for adventure. comfortable routine. unexpected bravery. tea - stained pages.cozy armchairs. dusty relics. hidden strengths. garden parties. moonlit windows. quick thinking. humble heroism. resourceful in chaos. clever wordplay.

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃. never found cowering. strong familial ties. a fierce opponent. loyalty over love. tempered steel. haunted by the past. defending one’s stronghold. sense of duty. forged in fire. honor above all. the weight of legacy. shaped by adversity, tempered by loss. fiercely protective.

𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘. the balancing of fate. ancient magic. purifying power. bringer of light. wise guidance. secret keeper. forgotten paths. unseen destinations. cryptic answers. hidden chambers. a mysterious figure. the voice of reason.

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐈𝐋. haunted by echoes of the past. elegant majesty. moonlit counsel. secrets kept in silence. the cautious leader. love of rare beauty. wisdom in isolation. heart of the forest. a silent observer. calculative & condescending.

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔𝐆. golden hoards. thirst for destruction. golden armor. fearsome majesty. glinting claws. the dark allure of treasure. insatiable greed. scorched earth. the unyielding sentinel. watching & waiting. what does not kill you should run. finding a wicked enjoyment in others’ suffering. only one weakness.

𝐀𝐙𝐎𝐆. unfettered brutality. eternal darkness. the rot of vengeance. a warrior’s rage. brute strength. iron - clad resolve. a litany of scars. an unrelenting force. maimed in battle. religion in bloodshed. servant of the darkness. ancient hatreds. branded with malice.

Tagged by: @iniziare (thank you gerl <3) Tagging: ... You. I am lazy. Nick it.

[driofaire]

your dating service:

Date with Rook. Date Fee: $15 Customer Comments: "I want to do...more with Rook... (Person in 30s)"

Date with Shi'ndra. Date Fee: $8.99 Customer Comments: "The only thing Shi'ndra talked about was anime. (Person in 60s)"*

* Note: He protested vehemently against the anime accusation, and did, in fact, stress that it was legos, actually.

[driofaire]

There were times where Mari longed for the openness of the ocean, and the freedoms that it afforded her. Nothing truly anchoring her, no pointed fingers that told her where to go, who to be, and how the world around her ought to shape her. She had been fortunate in many ways to have been allowed it, even as estranged from folks she had once called family as she was. That was the price for having struck out on her own, she supposed. She was a Lord or Fortune, and as long as there was coin, she would always have somewhere to go, and something to do. People to meet.

Rook was a striking example of that. She did not wish to be in his shoes, with the weight of the world's fate resting heavily on it, nor did she know how to help him with it. She tried. Thought long and hard on it at the end of the day as she sat beside the caretaker's awfully handy little table and watched the wisps outside of Neve's own tower. Maribel shouldered open the door to his room, and poked her head around it. Fuck, forgot to knock again. Whoops.

"Hey, Rook. Wanted to know if you fancied a jaunt to Rivain. Want to go watch the sunset on the beach. Or, if a drink's what you fancy, we could go grab a bevvy from the Hall of Valour. Starting to get a little stir crazy."

@tarrasch / closed starter / companion!maribel.

[driofaire]

When one thought of necromancers, they hardly put a thought to them being quite as friendly as Gale was. It seemed as though the mages she had been destined to meet were either perfectly pleasant gentlemen, or bright and cunning others; nothing unfriendly or worth fearing. Rook was mystified by the magic in them yet in the same breath wary of it, though it was as much a tool for them as her daggers and bow were for her. Without her weapons, she would be about as much use as tits on a fish ... but him? God, he would be entirely unstoppable. Gale's quarters in the lighthouse were precisely as she expected; a mess of books, some opened, others for perusal as the fancy took him. She liked books well enough. Not quite the entire history of everything that had ever happened ... ever! But the ones of poetry, of sweet loves and unconquerable affections! Delightful.

Her fingers brushed against a particular one: an anthology of poems of the uncharted seas. Author unknown. Curiosity drew her to it, and for a moment she considered opening up the first few pages and taking it in. "Oh, this is right up my street," Rook said, finally. "Don't suppose you'd recommend this, would you? Already went through the books I bought in that pokey little place in Minrathous."

@recitedemise / closed starter.

[driofaire]

Rogue, saboteur specialisation. Heart of gold, the right idea and god-awful execution. Struggling to find herself and where she belongs. A personable ex-pirate with an uncanny knack for defeating the odds and coming out on top. Plenty of hiccups ahead.

MUSE TAGS: GENERAL, WRITING, PINTEREST, SPOTIFY, BONDS, META.

Please note: spoilers for Veilguard below. (Will remove the read more in a month or so).

THE BASICS.

NAME: Balrina Munette Maribel Rook Ladair. ALIASES: Mari (picked herself), Rook, she does not offer the name of Maribel unless very, very well acquainted as she ties that with her adoptive mother. AGE: 32. RACE: Human, assumed common born due to having no information about her own parents. GENDER: Female. OCCUPATION: Pirate & smuggler (formerly), mercenary (present), treasure hunter. SEXUALITY: Bisexual, male-leaning. PLACE OF ORIGIN: Ferelden (unknown to her), assumed Rivain. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Common, Rivaini. Fluent in both. AFFILIATION: Lords of Fortune, The Veilguard.

THE PHYSICAL:

FACECLAIM: Geena Davis, specifically in Cutthroat Island. HAIR: Dark brown, almost black. Messily cut so it doesn't fall into her eyes. Definitely does this with a dagger when it starts to bother her. EYE COLOUR: Hazel, leaning heavily more into dark green. HEIGHT: 5'7''. BUILD: Lean but well-muscled from years of trawling through ruins, and scrambling up the mast to get into the crow's nests of ships. A little on the skinny side, as most seafaring folks tend to be. This is from many weeks either at sea, or, having actually left seafaring behind, setting out on trips with only the necessary rations. DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: Heavy scarring on face, some newer, some older. Heavy scarring on body from knife-fishing and altercations with sea life. A mish-mash of tattoos over her body, some newer, some faded with time. The favourite of hers being an anchor on her collarbone. A beauty mark above her left lip, on her left cheek and the right side of her jaw. Missing the top segment of her left pinky finger after a game of five finger fillet in her misspent twenties.

RELATIONSHIPS.

Family: Uriel Munette† (biological father), Camilla Munette† (biological mother), Marisol Ladair (adoptive mother, estranged). FRIENDS: Varric Tethras, Bellara Lutare, Lace Harding, Lucanis Dellamorte, Neve Gallus, Emmrich, Davrin, Taash. ENEMIES: Solas. Elgar'nan. Ghilan'nain. Marisol Ladair.

BACKSTORY / TIDBITS.

Originally born Balrina Munette, sole daughter of Uriel Munette and Camilla Munette. They were seafaring merchants that dealt mostly in spices, though, on occasion they could be paid to carry … other curiosities of interest. 

As they were never home, they opted to set sail with Maribel rather than leave her with someone else, as they hoped that, as their eldest daughter, when they retired they would be able to leave their profession in the hands of her. 

Were set upon by pirates allied with the Lords of Fortune when she was three years old, and, after the rest of the crew had been slaughtered, they found her cowering in the hold. Rather than throwing her overboard, they opted to take her to their Captain, one Marisol Ladair, of the Brightfin. She considered leaving her at the next safe port, but ultimately decided against it. She would eventually grow fond of her, and take her under her wing as a stolen protege. 

She was renamed in the first few weeks under Marisol’s command, as Maribel herself decided that she did not sound quite pirate enough. She asked Marisol to pick one, and the pirate thought it would be cute to match. She would also claim the title of Miniature Mari in the years to come.

When she came old enough to be trusted to scamper up into the crow’s nest of The Brightfin, she would be on the lookout for ships on the horizon. It would not be until her 12th birthday that Marisol gifted her the first sword she would ever know. Crafted specially for her adopted daughter, it was a small thing but sharp enough to cut through her finger like butter. She called it Little Fang, and now that she has long outgrown it, it is now a display item in her room in the Lighthouse. 

It took her a while to realise that it was Marisol’s crew that killed her family, and she did not remember her name before. This did put a rift between them, as from the ages of 15-25, she pulled away from her and the life of piracy in favour of the plunder and robbing of tombs, ruins and contracted jobs escorting excavators, scholars and other folks who need a trained eye.

She likes spear fishing/combing the sea floor for oysters. This is how she chooses to relax when she is stressed and she is able to find shiny shells, pearls and sea glass which is also displayed in her room in the lighthouse. 

DECISIONS: UNDER CONSTRUCTION.

[driofaire]

THE LORD OF FORTUNE, MARIBEL "ROOK" LADAIR TAGS.

THE LORD OF FORTUNE — THREADS. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — ANSWERED. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — VISAGE. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — HEADCANONS. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — AESTHETIC. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — MUSINGS. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — FRIENDS & FOES. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — MUSIC. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — DELIGHTS. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — VERSE : PROLOGUE. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — VERSE : ACT I. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — VERSE : ACT II. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — VERSE : ACT III. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — BOND : LACE HARDING. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — BOND : BELLARA LUTARE. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — BOND : LUCANIS DELLAMORTE. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — BOND : DAVRIN. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — BOND : EMMRICH. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — BOND : TAASH. THE LORD OF FORTUNE — BOND : SOLAS.

[driofaire]

"I think you should take these broken wings and learn to fly." Mari pinched the shirt at the underside of his arm, and shook it gently to mimic the motion of an actual bird. He did not remind her of the colourful birds found in warmer climates, but of crows and ravens, majestic in their own rights with dark, intelligent eyes. "You can't keep beating yourself up about that. I'd of picked the same in your shoes."

Send me a number from 1-100 for a starter based on that song, or 🎁 for me to shuffle. ↳ 88. The Beatles -- Blackbird. / @avalior.

[driofaire]

"When our money is all spent, we'd head to see for more." There was nothing quite like the thrill of battle, with the water raging around her. As much as she'd loved travelling with Varric, it had taken her quite a bit to get used to walking on land. Sea legs were not build for the stillness of the soil, but for the rock and sway of a ship. It had been something of an issue when she'd landed with the Lords of Fortune on the hunt for work. "Still, I live in hopes to see my homeland once more. You know, once I figure out where that is exactly."

Send me a number from 1-100 for a starter based on that song, or 🎁 for me to shuffle. ↳ 6. THE MARY WALLOPERS -- THE HOLY GROUND. @dicethrow.