#dirth'asha
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
tavis-of-bannorn · 7 years ago
Note
For every ✘ I get, my muse will reveal one thing that frightens, disturbs, or disgusts them.    
Tumblr media
“I am disgusted by people’s ability to condemn someone to imprisonment of the mind. There is nothing worse than Tranquility. A blood mage is hunted for controlling the mind temporarily but a Templar is rewarded for doing the same permanently. It is a fate worse than death and it is repulsive.”
1 note · View note
tavis-of-bannorn · 7 years ago
Note
A neatly folded note, tied up with a crimson ribbon, containing only one line in her delicate, artistic hand, had been slipped under his door. "I miss you."
Tavis hadn’t noticed when the note slid under the door, he was too focused on his work. It wasn’t any important work really - just some jewelry making to pass the time - but, as always, he became engrossed.It wasn’t until he stood, hours later, that he found the note. His head cocked to the side and he strolled towards the door before picking up the note. He untied it slowly, winding the crimson ribbon around a finger as he read it.He smiled. Anything from Imogen always made him happy, no matter how simple or complex and it was always nice to know that she was thinking of him too. It wouldn’t do to send something back though, he would rather go there himself and return the ‘I miss you’ to her face, preferably with a kiss.Striding back to his writing desk, he tucked the note between his other kept letters. He neatly tied the red ribbon around his thin wrist and headed out to find her.
1 note · View note
tavis-of-bannorn · 7 years ago
Text
Cavernous Resonance
@elfrootemporium Tavis already had his outfit selected from when Imogen came over before. It was an incredibly fancy outfit that he wasn’t used to, silvery with hints of lavender and it seemed like the embroidery was made of starlight. She made them all, of course, and that is what he chose but masks were even harder. He wasn’t used to wearing masks at all, the closest he had was his Vallaslin and even the mask didn’t cover the marks on his face. The mask he chose was what looked to be a wolf, or some canine and it matched her own but not exactly. His own outfit was silver with the hints of purple gems and hers... well he never saw hers entirely. She did that on purpose. He narrowed his eyes and grinned at the thought before making his way towards her quarters. Knuckles rapped on the door before he opened it, peeking in before entering. “I supposed I should meet you here before any wardrobe malfunctions happened,” he said and looked towards her with a smirk. holding the bagged clothing in his hand, as well as the mask. He was only in his usual casual clothing, colorful but definitely worn and not proper for the party they were going to.
1 note · View note
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Note
2. who flirts more?; 12. favorite non-sexual activity?; 13. favorite sexual activity?; 15. what habits of the other drives them crazy?; 28. what kind of stuff can be found around their place?; 30. what does their closet(s) look like?
BIG FAT DOMESTICITY QUESTIONS MEME
2. who flirts more?; //I am pretty sure this is as equal as it gets for them. Both Im and Tavis are absolutely terrible flirts (especially with each other). Even when it might not seem like their words are flirtatious, they are flirting somehow.12. favorite non-sexual activity?; //Crafting things together, doing weird shit like tragic sock puppet shows, leaving each other notes with childish drawings on them (so many cocks), hanging out together in lingerie and pretty jewelry, silly little pranks around skyhold, lounging and cuddling like they haven’t a care in the world.13. favorite sexual activity?; //Cookies. lol jk. Tavis likes any of their sexual activities but especially when it just starts out as them being complete buffoons and then they end up having awesome sex. What he really likes the most with Imogen is how they can just carry on normal conversation and somehow make that sexy. These two are so fucking weird even especially in bed, I swear.15. what habits of the other drives them crazy?; //Oh man… I’m not sure? I think it drives Imogen crazy when Tavis rags on himself? When it comes to Imogen he doesn’t really have anything that drives him crazy but he sometimes does wish she wouldn’t avoid talking about herself, at the same time he is ok with it and understands. Idk I think they are both pretty chill with each other.28. what kind of stuff can be found around their place?; //Tavis doesn’t really have much stuff that he leaves out, most of it he keeps packed because he is used to constantly traveling, so it would mostly be Imogen’s things I think.30. what does their closet(s) look like?    //Lol Tavis doesn’t use a closet but I imagine Imogen’s are full of fancy clothing and pretty things. 
3 notes · View notes
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Note
Send ☑ for my muse to write a list of what they hope to do with your muse.  
//Can you tell that he misses her? lol
I love you… so much. How do I show it without saying it? I love you immeasurably, Dirth’asha. Perhaps I can show it without words. I’m running out of creative trinkets I think. Perhaps more silly cock plasters?
Let us seduce someone together. Let us make them tremble in our bed.
The Turtle Prince is satisfied. But what about a Nevarran Prince of corpses? Too soon?
Take her to the forests where the air is green and the breath is ancient. Let her inhale the mystery and be consumed by her thoughts of time. Watch her in her intoxicating introspection.
A party. One where you dress me as if my ears aren’t pointed and I am a simple handsome gentlemen with a dowry dressed in pretty lace.
I want to explore every sin in Antiva with her. The exhilarating spices are pungent within her skin already.
4 notes · View notes
tavis-of-bannorn · 7 years ago
Note
An envelope, tied up with a crimson ribbon sits on his pillow. Inside the envelope, a poem in delicate, artistic handwriting. The words, foreign. Only Imogen knew what they said. Embroidered at the top of the sturdy paper, a golden dahlia.
Tumblr media
Tavis smiled fondly at the paper, delicately unlacing the ribbon before he opened the letter. He recognized the Dahlia and knew who it was from simply by that but he had no idea what the words meant. He still looked over them, trying to get an idea of how they would be vocalized but fell short. He would have to meet her and have her read the words aloud, even if she did not translate them. He loved seeing the strange writing from another world.
1 note · View note
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Note
💭
Send “���” For A Thought My Muse Had of Yours!
‘How lucky am I to have someone who understands my nonsensical words, who dances with my words as if it were a hidden language, who forms worlds with a mere laugh - an idea come from ethereal brilliance.’‘Those legs are flawless. They would look even prettier in ropes.’‘Neck. Neck. I just kissed it. I should kiss it again. Neck…. She is doing this on purpose.’
1 note · View note
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Note
“I was lightly stabbed! Lightly!”
Sentence Starters
Tavis immediately ran to Imogen when he saw her holding her side. There was blood dripping from her wound onto her hand and he panicked at the thought of it being fatal. It wasn’t expected and she wasn’t even gone for all that long. They were traveling and she had gone away from camp to get something from the nearby village. Then she came back bleeding and saying it was nothing, because of that his face revealed an obvious combination of annoyance and concern. “Void… This isn’t nothing, Imogen! You are bleeding profusely.” He looked at the wound, brow furrowing and he carefully lifted her in his arms to bring her to the tent. Setting her down on the bedroll, he shook his head softly and lifted up her shirt to assess the damage. He grimaced a bit at how deep it was and leaned over to grab supplies from his pack, he needed to use the worldly healing before his magic.“What happened? And this will sting,” he spoke as calmly as possible, applying some numbing solution around the gaping crack, before cleaning the wound with the harsh liquid.
1 note · View note
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Note
ಠ_ಠ
Send me ಠ_ಠ to know an inappropriate thought my muse has had about yours.
Tumblr media
‘Damn that gorgeous neck and what it does to me. It very hard to think of anything else. I keep going back to it like an addiction and now she let her hair down as well…. The neck that could topple nations with it’s power. Just another bite…’
1 note · View note
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Text
Washed Up
@elfrootemporium washed!up verse chat log. Will continue as a thread as discussed. Under the cut for length. <3
Tavis: <joined the Herald and some others on a journey to West Hill. There were reports of strange activity in the area and some individuals waiting to be recruited within the city. He wasn't really certain why the Inquisition had sent him along with. He is more than capable in a fight but never has he joined the Herald before and most of them seem suspicious of him. They had imprisoned him for a time, after all, so he is surprised they trusted him at all.>
<They finished with their recruitment in the city and made their way towards the coast where a rift is spotted along the shore. After some tiresome fighting, the Herald closes it and they make their way along the beach to make camp.>
<Once camp is set he wanders off to explore the beach a little enjoying the rare moment of respite, reveling in the feeling of sand between his toes and the refreshing sea air.>
<His eyes drift towards the shore and up ahead he notices a body laying still. He furrows his brow in concern and runs up to see a woman laying still. He fully expects the worst, but kneels down and checks her pulse and he is relieved to find she is still alive. But she clearly was just washed in from the sea, her clothing is soaked and the waves were close enough to brush her feet as they rose and fell.>
<Tavis carefully shifts her on her back> Can you hear me?<he says loud enough to try and reach her, repeating it before giving her enough of a shake to wake her if water isn't in her lungs and there is no response. He places a finger on her neck and then a hand on her chest giving a breath of relief well she is breathing at least but hardly. His face turns serious and focused and he presses on her chest just hard enough to get her breathing, and then carefully tilts her head back, closing her nose with fingers and meets her lips breathing air into her lungs. He does this repeatedly, over and over until he gets her to breathe again and dearly hopes he can save her> Imogen: What she remembered the most was the cold. It seeped into her skin, into her bones like the water seeped into her lungs burning and choking her insides. Then the darkness and nightmares claimed her: green swirling fog, grotesque monsters trying to devour her, voices screaming and talking over one another in her head.
And then they were quiet save for one. It was distant, concerned; though the words were unfamiliar they began pulling her from the darkness of her dreams. Warm lips against her forcing air into her burning lungs. Soft pressure on her chest waking her abruptly as the water was violently forced from her lungs.
She rolled over on her side, coughing and sputtering until she felt she could breathe again. Tavis: Tavis leaned back quickly as she came up for air and water left her in significant force. The concern was back on his face, a look of care as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He had some healing potions with him luckily and turned to release a vial from his belt. It could help any internal damage caused from the pressure and unconsciousness at least.
"I very nearly lost you. Do you know where you are?" He spoke softly and as calmly as possible, not really sure how lucid the woman would be, so he kept speaking. Emerald eyes were fixed on her and he held the potion out for her to take with a soft nod. "It will help you heal." Imogen: Imogen couldn't tell if she was awake or still dreaming. Sure, she hurt everywhere inside and out. But the land wasn't like anything she'd ever seen before, she couldn't understand what the man was saying to her. Speaking of the man holding the small bottle to her ... he... wasn't like anyone she'd ever met before: his skin was so very pale, hair so very red, curious tattoos drawn across his face and... her curiosity overrode any fear or sense of propriety and she reached up toward his long ear, running her finger along the outside of it, examining it. Who was he? What was he?
A bit of the fear came prickling back and she quickly pulled her hand back, scooting away from him a bit. Tavis: Tavis' eyes drifted to the side as he felt the tingle from her touch drawing up his ear. His head remained unmoving, he was rather confused by the gesture but more than a little intrigued by the odd directness. His eyes drifted back towards her, brow slowly rising in some amusement. Why is this strange human fondling my ear? He gave a soft chuckle at that before she pulled away and he blinked at the suddenness.
He wasn't really sure what to do, clearly words weren't helping. He had no idea why that woman would have been unconscious on the shore. It was clearly an accident at sea or something like that. Or perhaps she escaped from a slaver ship, he heard rumors that the area was notorious for having many slavers about but generally the elves were the ones they stole away, not humans.
He put a hand up, a small indication that he meant no harm and he nodded as she backed away then gave her space.
"I mean no harm," he said in a soft reassuring tone, and tried to meet her eyes, his own quiet and a little curious. "But I understand why you would be wary of a random elf hovering over you on the beach," he continued and set the vial down between them, still crouched down in front of her and laced his fingers together. "I would like to help you if you'll allow it." Imogen: Taking a good look at her surroundings she realized that she was alone, in this strange world, with this strange person, with nothing but the clothes on her back. The wet... clingy...clothes. She watched him carefully as he moved, waiting for the slightest sign that he might try to hurt her. But he was slow, deliberate as though he understood. She eyed the vial between them. If their positions were reversed, she'd try to help... perhaps it was for the pain, her injuries? Still, she shoudl still be careful.
Imogen picked up the vial and held it to him. /"You first."/ If she didn't understand his words, she doubted he understood  what she was saying, so she hoped he understood she wasn't rejecting his help. Just... being cautious. Tavis: He watched her as she examined her surroundings and he also took note that she only had her clothes. And her clothes were quite strange as well, he glanced at the difference of style, one that he had never seen before. But he supposed he had never been further north than the Free Marches so perhaps she was Antivan or Rivaini. Rivain seemed the closest possible location that he could assume just by looking at her but it was still off.
He glanced at the vial before giving her a very intrigued look at the words. They were short and sweet but he knew for sure that was not an Antivan tongue and he had heard Rivaini pirates speaking in the past. Nor was it Qunlat or anything he had heard before. Which was the only reason that he gave the slightest pause.
Tavis gave a nod in understanding and carefully reached for the vial, tipping his head back and taking a little swig, enough to prove it wasn't poisonous. His nose twitched at the taste, he always hated the taste of that particular potion, it had a harsh bite to it but he was used to it by now. He swallowed and let it sit a moment, long enough to indicate that, if it were poisonous, it would have affected him by then.
With an arm outstretched, he handed it back to her, giving a small smile and a hum instead of words, because it seemed she did not speak the common tongue. Imogen: She waited a moment, watching him intently for any sign of adverse effects. When she was sure he wasn't going to fall over dead right there in front of her, she mirrored his movements as she drank the potion herself right down to the same nose twitch at the taste.
Now what?  
She fingered the bottle as she looked over him again, fascinated by elongated, pointy ears. She'd never seen such a person before. Tavis: He watched the woman as she took the bottle and shifted to a more casual position, sitting on the sand and folding his legs. He merely looked at her because clearly words were pointless but they still slipped out regardless.
"Well then..." He gave a lilting chuckle and smiled more a little more amusement touching his eyes at the situation.
So he couldn't speak and facial expressions, tone and body movements only did so much unless people were well acquainted, they had just met. His gaze drew away from hers and he leaned to the side, propping himself up with one arm and considered the sand.
Well he could draw something to speak, but what? And he wasn't particularily good at drawing either. But he could draw basic things in sand to get something across.
He gave her a soft glance, lips quirking before he turned so he sat next to her at a respectful distance. A long finger began forming lines and shapes in the sand until ended up looking like a ship. He glanced to the side, giving an inquisitive look as if his eyes placed a question mark at the end. It was the closest he could get to using pictures to communicate what was happening really so he just drew what he thought of first. Imogen: Imogen shivered in the cool breeze and wrapped her arms around herself as she watched him draw in the sand. A ship? Did she come over on a ship? She nodded and then reached over and drew two other ships, a storm cloud, and bolts of lightning striking the ships. Tavis: Tavis watched her drawing, happily noting that she understood his question. So there was a storm and she survived somehow. He gave a glance towards her and noticed her shivering and shrugged his cloak off before wrapping it around her shoulders. A smile touched his lips before he went back to think of what to draw.
He drew something akin to a campfire, logs underneath and a flame atop it, with lines above it to indicate smoke. Next to it he drew a tent and a few stick figures with smiles. That was the best to indicate that the people were friendly. He didn't want to lead her into a camp with people in it without telling her first.
Then he nodded to his left where the campsite was. He wasn't really sure what to draw to indicate that she would be safe or what to do to prove it to her, that was the dilemma. Imogen: It didn't escape her notice that she was the only one from any of the ships on the beach. Was she the only survivor? Were the others further along the beach? Both thoughts made her queasy. If she were the only one, she'd have to figure out what to do all on her own. If she wasn't...well, that was a whole other well of problems she'd have to deal with.
Imogen followed the man's gaze to a campsite in the distance. More than likely his than any of hers. But what if she wasn't the first he found?
She leaned over their sand drawing, once again adding to it. She drew several small people on the ship, pointed to them, then tilted her head in question. Have you seen them? Tavis: He wondered where the others were as well when he gazed at her drawing. He had seen no others but that didn't necessarily mean they were gone, they could have been further along the shore. But it was amazing that this woman was alive at all, he doubted there would be other survivors, given her condition.
Tavis glanced at her, sadness touching his eyes with the slightest frown. His head gave a soft shake 'no' and he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry." He said softly, his tone sympathetic. He knew she couldn't understand but hoped she could at least hear it in his tone.
His hand fell from her shoulder and he pointed towards her, then towards himself before placing two fingers towards his eyes and out to the beach. He made another gesture towards her drawing of her people on the ship and then nodded. We can search for them.
5 notes · View notes
tavis-of-bannorn · 7 years ago
Text
Language of It’s Own
@qsarrae Tavis was alone on his journey for so long that he lost track of the days. He wasn’t used to traveling alone, it was strange and made him a bit cross with his direction. There was no actual fear, he could handle himself, but the absence of people made him question his purpose for moving at all. He was supposed to go to the Inquisition and help restore the world. Simple enough, but he didn’t trust large organizations under the chantry to restore anything. He was putting himself in a lot of danger - going there. He hoped that it was worth the risk. Not far along in the distance, he spotted a caravan of humans, most of them looked starved and like they were camping, hovered around a fire with frigid desperation. He thought long and hard about how unwise it would be to approach them. I likely should keep my distance. He absently tapped the tattoo on his chin. It was still afternoon when he made his way into the forest. His bow was just newly fixed by the nearby clan so he could hunt with ease, as was his spear. The hunt he set out upon would have only ended with one meal, but he had the caravan in mind and carried on until sunset. They looked hungry and it wasn’t as if he was in a hurry. He had the skills they did not, he grew up with the harshness of nature which bit and bruised the inexperienced, he could give back with a meal. Tavis walked up towards the caravan, some rabbits were on his belt and in a large burlap sack he carried a small ram over his shoulder. He huffed from the long walk before thumping the ram onto the ground before the bewildered starving humans. “You seemed hungry.” He offered, eyeing the the travelers faces. He tried to hide his exhaustion, offering his most friendly smile. “Perhaps we could share a campfire? I’ve brought the refreshments.” He addressed a man who looked most like he was in charge, but the man seemed wary.
0 notes
tavis-of-bannorn · 7 years ago
Note
“If this wasn’t dangerous, it wouldn’t be interesting.”
Dark Magic starters@elfrootemporiumThey managed to slip away from the Inquisition for a month. It still didn’t seem long enough but they had plans. Plans in Orlais, specifically. He was excited about all of the trouble they would cause. It was them, so he knew it wouldn’t be a vacation spent lounging around and doing nothing.That night, their objective was party crashing. The party of an ill-tempered and morally defunct noble, to be precise. They had heard whispers of this Duke in a tavern just outside of Val Royeaux. ‘Double dealing snake’ was uttered more than once by the merchants. There were also rumors of him abusing his elven ‘servants’ and sending them off into life threatening situations, when he wasn’t beating them for their supposed insolence. All around, the Duke seemed to be the scum of the earth, even by Orlesian standards.“Very well, but don’t break your neck. That is my favorite part.” They were positioned on the roof above one of the dark and vacant rooms and had opened one of the glass panes so they could slip down into the darkness. “After you.” He gave her a cheesy grin and held tight onto the rope.
0 notes
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
@elfrootemporium
Can I say that "Nevarran Prince of Corpses" greatly piqued her interest?
0 notes
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Note
Send in one of these - Food Edition! 
🍏 - I love your blog!🍊 - Your characters are well developed!🍉 - I want to RP with you more!!//Ily my majestic unicorn friend. I love rping with you too! ALWAYS!
Tumblr media
0 notes
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Text
The Spirit Whispers
@elfrootemporium Continued from | X | ‘A good thing. I assure you,’ he sent to her in the mournful whisper of his mind, but he remembered, he recalled the times he tried to speak to others in such a way and even with the old ones it had failed. He should have remembered, he woke her up but he was... so used to speaking with her in that intimate way. It was how their selves connected. Words became lost in that intimate and emotional language, but now it was tangled between the soil and the spirits slamming fists against their prison. “You have been gone a long time. There are many things that have transpired since I awoke... I assume you are aware of some, at least,” he said out loud this time, in elven, because she knew such a language. He spoke it in a quiet tone that resonated through the chamber and it was strange to hear his voice around her. He assumed she would at least know of Fen’harel’s betrayal, though perhaps not, the servants could only bring her so many secrets in her state of stasis, but he did his best to gather them as he could. He had people sent to care for her, but most times he took on that responsibility himself, without hesitation. That was his duty after all and always would be, but she had been asleep, he had been awake centuries before her at least. So few knew of her any longer, her name was replaced by the gods who ravaged their world for war and power, too long ago to recount through records. The Evanuris could never truly understand the things they destroyed along with it.
0 notes
tavis-of-bannorn · 8 years ago
Note
hallloooo
Send me a HELLO and i’ll answer…                                            
If we kissed:
[] This wouldn’t happen.
[] Oh disgusting.
[x] Again, again.
[x] Kiss you back.
[x] That closet looks lonely. *grins*
[] Slap/Push you away.
[] Be confused
If you asked me out I’d say:
[] Um no.
[] I’m taken-
[] Sure.
[x] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.
Can we cuddle?:
[] No.
[] Ew.
[] Sure.
[x] Always.
Sex?:
[x] Let’s do it.
[] No. You can’t handle my d.
[x] FUCK YES.
[] No.
Should you reblog this?:
[x] Yes. you did and I sent you one.
[] Yes.
[] No.
1 note · View note