#also: glowing sylvari feet <3

[awakenedsylvari]

a warrior retires to a simpler life; the story passes on to another

(she's reading the latest Snargle Goldclaw novel)

[sleidog]

Learn about my OCs! post #3 Rui!

Rui's turn! my sweet, gentle flower boy who also happens to be, quite by accident my strike/raid/dungeon main

[ Name ]  Ruisehart/Rui

[ Species ] Sylvari

[ Height ] 6'4"

[ Age ] 18-28 [36-46 by more normal age conventions]

[ Class ] Necromancer Reaper

[ Cycle ] Dusk

[ Gender ] Male, He/Him

[ Status ] Married

[ Orientation ] Demisexual

When Mordremoth appeared, he concocted a potion that was intended to put himself into a suspended state of animation for 5 years, hopefully, when the threat of the dragon would have long passed over, not wanting his advanced knowledge of minion creation and preservation to fall into the wrong hands. However, with the whispers already starting to creep into his thoughts, his ratios for his potion failed, resulting in his death through poisoning. Prior to this, Rui was a simple funeral director, skilled in making bodies presentable for open caskets, complete with deeply complex floral displays to honour the dead. How close he could work to a specification and how meticulous he can be are his biggest assets. He would also frequently handle pet burials and occasional taxidermy, which briefly led him to meet Slei during his rougher days.

After the events of Heart of thorns, Rui is found in his death state by Tai. Unwilling to see such a fate befall a well loved companion, despite it being extremely one sided, Tai shares their lifeforce with Rui, skirting the lines of the Necromancers code to not bring back the dead in the form that they died. Rui is led on to believe that his potion worked by Tai [who thumbed through his research notes] and doesn't find out the truth until much later. [LIKES & DISLIKES] ✔ Tea ✔ Flora ✔ Good manners ✔ Peace and quiet ✖ Loud noises ✖ Needless death ✖ Wastefulness [ A b i l i t i e s /p e r k s]  Empathetic Rui is very well tuned to his fellow sylvari before his eventual loss of connection to the dream after he poisons himself. Mild mannered Able to keep a level head even around the most destraught greivers and in generally perilous situations, his even temprament tends to be quite infectious and helps others around him calm down. It's speculated that the delicate scent from his flower assists with this. Patient Rui is a funeral director and mortician, his work is slow and methodical and he has patience in spades! he's a very good listener as well. Speaks to the dead A more controversial thing that Rui can do, is temporarily raise the dead and speak to them about their cause of death [in the event that theres no witnesses and the resulting body from an incident is in fair enough condition to be reanimated and speak, similarly to the DnD ability!] or, in the event a body isn't claimed by friends or family, he'll raise them to make sure they get closure and the ceremony they would have wanted, free of charge. [Trivia] He has odd horns that stick out of the back of his head, they feel like thorns

He gets quite dry easily. He has a healthier glow and more color to his leaves after a drink.

He lacks a shine in his eyes that is hard to notice, post death. His general appearance in his hands, feet and general leaf shapes across his body are slightly reptilian in appearance, yet still textured like leaves. Rui shares some of Tai's power post resurrection and as a result he can no longer speak to the dead because they just stay reanimated and don't eventually go back to 'sleep'. He has only made this mistake once and is too scared to try it again because of the consequences. Despite being an absolute pacifist, Rui is a reasonably skilled fighter and the reason and origin of this is unknown. I cornered and unable to get out of a confrontation it's very likely to end badly for the aggressor. Rui's minions have little outfits, and names! They also have a mummified appearance and less fleshy than the standard GW2 minions. Buddy, flesh golem Buster and Georgie, bone minions Squiggles, blood fiend Ripley, Bone fiend sometimes he also has jagged horrors that assist him with things, however these minions are temporary and wither away too quickly for him to bother naming them. standing illustration of rui is by https://twitter.com/lohenwolfe

[i-mybrunettelady]

Touches ask game questions!

Handholding 33 and Touch 5

Some of these are so cute it's hard to pick only a couple.

-uselessidiotsquad-

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Woohoo cute asks coming up <3 Thank you for submission!

-------------- NYRA AND TRAHEARNE, HAND-HOLDING

Somewhere in Straights of Devastation, 1325 AE

“Now, let me see that hand,” Nyra orders when they finally make a stop. The trek is long and hard - when Trahearne mentions a fort, do not expect something within a few days’ ride, or somewhere remotely close to an asuran gate - and her legs are screaming under the heavy armour she’s been wearing. Hair sticks to her head, sweat sticks to her skin, but if there’s anything Forgal has taught her, it’s endurance. And besides, that armour protected her when a group of risen attacked, so she can’t really complain.

Trahearne, though, isn’t as lucky. They’ve only had the time for a quick bandaging before having to go on further and Nyra was too drained for a proper healing spell.

He looks up from his place by the fire, startled. “If it isn’t an inconvenience to you,” he says carefully, making place for her. With a groan, she sits and reaches for his hand. Sylvari skin feels a world away from human skin, she muses, and there is a faint line of sap from the cut on his hand. She imagines it makes a sound when she runs her nails over it.

“Nonsense,” she replies, enjoying the weight of it in her hands. Her heart beats a little faster and his eyes, dead set on her, aren’t helping at all. “I don’t want you to lose a hand. It’s a pretty hand.”

He raises a brow. “Pretty?”

“Yes,” she says, inwardly cringing at the further shove in the ground that is the grave of her dignity, “all... bark and nature and... yes.” Farewell dignity, you shall be missed. “Now,” her fingers glow blue and they wrap around that pretty sylvari palm and she’s too well trained to lose track of what she’s doing but..

It is a pretty fucking sylvari hand. That belongs to Trahearne. With long, pretty fingers.

Anyway, work.

“I wouldn’t want to impose on your expertise,” he says suddenly and there’s a note of reserved teasing in it, “but may I have my hand back? I’m afraid it’s not replaceable and I am in need of it.”

“Right! Right! Of course, here’s your hand back, kind sir, thank you for borrowing it,” Nyra quickly relinquishes it and drags her own hands away to her lap.

“You may have it when you want it, though,” he adds and all blood seems to rush to her cheeks. “You just have to ask.”

“I’ll.. have that in mind,” she stammers, staggering to her feet, “but I have to go sleep now. It’s a long trek tomorrow. You should do so too.”

And I should also fall in a ditch and stay there. Just in case I happen to have close contact with my crush. Just in case.

----- EL AND LIV, TOUCH (slightly suggestive, so under the cut, just in case)

Grove, 1332 AE

“Your heart’s beating really fast,” El notices. There’s a steady rhythm in his ear of dum-dum and he can imagine blood flowing beneath all that fur, the power of it. And it’s beating fast now, in the early morning hours, loud enough to drown the ever-present sound of water in his house.

“Hearts do that,” Liv snorts and pulls El close. “Not a particularly observant remark. That tired?”

“I don’t have a heart,” El sighs. “Or plant vitals, as a certain charr likes to say. It’s really interesting how irregular the pattern is becoming, like after exertion-”

“Sex is exertion,” Liv says in that obnoxiously endearing way he’s adopted since they’ve gotten together and that El would’ve smacked him for before, but now doesn’t exactly have the heart to, “did you not see the force of-”

“I know how good your pelvic work is, I promise you,” El smacks him over the snout playfully, shaking under a barely contained laugh, “do not interrupt my very professional analysis of the current state of your heart that I, as its owner, have access to. Now, it’s probably rushing that blood it’s pumping somewhere else - not that I mind that direction-”

“Owner of my heart, huh?” Liv licks a stripe up his cheek. “You’re impossible.”

“Where’s the lie? And you wouldn’t have me any other way, you big cat!”

Liv smiles a very charr-like smile. “That I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t indeed.”