#theautumnpicker
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Careful, we bite~
RP Thread with @theautumnpicker The nighttime air was cool and the dark sky was covered in a blanket of dark clouds. Stars decorated the sky and for once Quillen felt like he could relax. The rogue had been sitting on a small log reflecting on the events of the day and taking some time to enjoy the peace and quiet of nature.
Things at camp had changed since he had befriended his small group of tadpole-infested misfits. Who would have thought he of all people would find himself in good company?
There was still a ways to go in terms of gaining the trust of a few people but overall the half-elf could count on them to have his back when the situation called for it. Hells, he’d even have their backs too. After all, they needed one another if they were to ever find a cure.
The dhampir smiled softly to himself and looked up at the night sky. A soft exhale escaped past his plump lips and his bright red eyes softened as he noticed a few constellations had been visible. The sound of chatter broke his concentration on the night sky and he turned his attention to the rest of camp, watching as a few of his companions retreated into their tents to settle down for the night.
Quillen retreated to his accommodations and made quick work setting a soft blanket out by his bed roll. Once he was satisfied with his work he turned back towards the entrance of his tent and slowly pulled the flap back before he slinked away silently into the woods. The dhampir needed to feed and now that activity around camp was dead it was the perfect time to find himself something to satiate his sanguine hunger.
All he needed to do was find something to sink his pretty little fangs into. He trailed his ruby orbs around his surroundings and hummed quietly to himself. “Now, what will nature bless me with tonight I wonder?”
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[ secrets ] ― do they have any dirty secrets? if so, what are they?
The only thing that comes to mind is that Niamh loves being called a "good girl" and it flusters her so bad, lmao, if someone finds out she loves it she just wants to curl up and hide. It's not even that kinky! It just for some reason makes her so embarrassed.
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@theautumnpicker
The question causes Astarion's eyes to narrow with irritation, his gaze to focus sharply on Varis as he crosses his arms. It sounds like a taunt. He's tempted to answer the question by tossing a firebolt directly at Varis, but he's not stupid enough to give into his first impulse, at least not when it might have such negative repercussions.
"No, I don't think it would be. But I also don't think I need to learn any more cantrips. I already have quite an array of them at my disposal." He frowns. "I'm not a child apprentice, you know. You underestimate my existing ability." Even if elemental magic is not his forte.
He rarely bothers to teach anyone anything. To waste his time. Those who would better themselves are meant to do it on their own. But in this case, he can show off a little, as well as make Astarion a little more capable. This way, he won't have to be looking over his shoulder every moment of battle to ensure that the other is alright. For a moment, he foregoes thinking about what is within the realm of the other's capacity in terms of magic. He just tilts his head, observing the other, with another question on his tongue: "What spell or magic do you most wish you could do? Beyond whatever your wildest dreams might be. If you were, say, some great prodigy."
#v: let them dedicate their lives to your glory ; let them kill to be near you. you are above all#theautumnpicker
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✘ : What one thing they would change about your muse.
@theautumnpicker
"Communication, presently," says Roland. "That una'feared, deliberate Phrase and stark sound to the down-turned palm; something of naked honesty and satisfaction for that opened Book. Something to speak with for those emotional colors," says he.
Send me a symbol, and my muse will answer .
#translation: roland goes full surfboard hang-ten when it comes to talking abt his feelings in any situation#& he wants for astarion to join him💖#theautumnpicker#notepad.
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NINE PEOPLE I’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER
last song: A Father's Lesson, by Peter Gundry
favorite color(s): blue, purple, black, white, aqua green, gold, silver
currently watching: Solo Leveling
spicy/savory/sweet: Sweet above all
relationship status: Happily taken ♡
current obsession: my muses with their stories and all that could be throughout the campaigns and threads, getting better at my job and finding more, finding a way to stay and live in my bf's city (and soon under the same roof), also Bg3
Stolen from @notyetfixed yoink~
Tagging: @estarion @ramblingsofamoonwatcher @iron-hearts-ablaze @deepseawarlock @dalishborne @theautumnpicker @bells-of-black-sunday @vigilant-cleric @oblivisms and also whoever else wants to do this ♡
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Starter for @theautumnpicker
The snow swirls with pungent steam, the outpouring of filthy water from rusted boilers; factories and workshops line the lower industrial district. Midnight is gone, but one wouldn't know it. The graceful moon is blocked by thick plumes of steam, the sound of sleep muffled by hissing steel machinery and the howls of the restless night.
"You're fascination with me has led you to the bilge-filth of Waterdeep's lowest districts?" She hums, recognizing his pale face through the steam. Bloody bandaged knuckles wipe dripping blood from her nose. "Never thought I'd see you so far from the academic towers, fancy boy."
#Changed her appearance slightly from when I wrote her last#Less tall is the important thing#Needed more of her drowness to come through
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@theautumnpicker continued from X.
When she had woken up to find him gone, Niamh had assumed that perhaps he'd simply left after he'd started feeling better. She decided to check the beach, though, just in case. She was a little worried about his illness returning and causing him to pass out.
After she dresses and wrangles her wild curls back from her face, she makes the trek out of the cottage to the beach. She sees him in the distance, wading in the water, though by the time she reaches him he's out and dressed.
The kisses surprise her and so does the bow. She can't help but giggle at little. "You definitely seem as if you're feeling much better!I'm glad. My name's Niamh. It's nice to be properly introduced, Astarion."
He still looked rather pale, but perhaps some color would come back to his cheeks after a little while. She would try not to fret. The medicines she'd given him had seemed to help.
"Oh, you don't have to do anything," she said quickly, "I was happy to help. I'm just glad you're feeling better. I hated seeing you feel so poorly."
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WHAT KIND OF VILLAIN AM I ?
Pure Evil
You are unapologetically evil, you are likely just here for the drama and the theater of it all. You are selfish and cruel because you want to be, not because you had no other choice, but because you revel in the opportunity to do what is wrong. That's not to say you will commit every unspeakable act, perhaps you have standards and your own moral code, but by no means are you the good guy in your own mind. Those who have wronged you, no matter how trivial or petty the slight against you, will be treated without mercy and you will be cackling the entire time without a hint of remorse. You enjoy the most painful and twisted approach to getting your revenge. Above all else, you like to cause problems on purpose.
tagging: @dreadwxlf, @dcwncametheclaw, @taleswritten, @theautumnpicker, @devourcr
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WHAT KIND OF LOVE ARE YOU
Tagged by @lordliing
Love as Religion
Devotion, that is the name of your love. Your love is an act of worship. Your love is like witnessing the birth of Venus, like seeing the sun come alive, or the stars fall. When you love, it is because you have found God in a lover. You have found the meaning of life itself in the heart of the one you adore. They are everything to you; they are your Maker, and you are their lamb, their flock, their first and holiest worshipper. When you fall in love, it is as a baptism. You are born anew, made a believer in the divinity of the one you love most. Being loved by you is an ascension; it is holy and golden. It is all-consuming, and all-faithful, loyal as the dog. You will never, ever bite back.
Tagging: @theautumnpicker & anyone else who wants to yoink this
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What ghost haunts you?
the ghost of vengeance
you ache for revenge and little else. red paints your vision, and it has grown so thick that it has grown so hard to see. somewhere within your ribs is a child longing for comfort again. you will never let them see the light of day. for now, there is blood on your hands and your teeth. before you were a human, you were an omen with a heart constructed of thorns. when audre lorde wrote, “i feel it’s my anger that helped keep me alive.” when ashe vernon wrote, “isn’t this rage so ugly? and isn’t it mine, still? good god, isn’t it mine?” you will never find peace within your own anger, but you bathe in it anyway. the way you always have.
(stolen from @theautumnpicker) (steal it from me~)
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ?
Love as a Force of Nature
Your love is like whiplash –– it comes in with the rain, it blows the doors wide open. When you fall in love, it is sudden and hard and immense. It is powerful. It is earth-shaking and world-ending. Nature is a force, and that force can be destructive if you're not careful. See how the world is doused in gasoline and set on fire –– your love consumes, your love takes, your love burns. You're hot and cold all at once, a hurricane and a wildfire bound together in skin, and when you're in love, it can feel like it's eating you alive from the inside out. When you love, it is with everything you have because it is everything you have. Be careful, darling, because not everyone survives the storm.
tagged by : @celestialheal, @notyetfixed, & @theautumnpicker ! tagging : @intothewildsea, @miss-polly, @ladyxamalthea, @archerwhiterp, @amothersvow, & whomever wants to !
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@ichor-and-magic
@theautumnpicker
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"So you're the devil they were talking about. Got yourself summoned by the wrong person, sweetheart?"
Imprisoned/Trapped Monster Starters
"Not at all." Raphael replied with a smirk on his lips. "I must have been summoned by the right person, if it lead me to you." He relaxes back in his chair, although aptly he is stuck inside a cage, larger than he needed though -- most likely they expected him to be bigger than he is. It is amusing, to say the least.
"Why the concern? Do you intend to free me? Or just mock me?"
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That eternal flex of his multiplying eyes recedes backward, unifying his pupils onto a singular Note for the individual pupil, and Roland removes his covering palm, blinking rapidly. His neck hath healed, and the residual blood upon his palm is all that is lefto’er. His is embarrassed, up onto the blushing points of his inhuman ears.
“I am so very sorry,” he repeats, dual in mortification. “Naught hast thou wronged me, or moved too incorrectly. The animal of my Body was not prepared for that placement of my throat within thine glorious teeth,” explains he.
“I am–” and he swallows tightly, and that singular Eye, dipped ‘to the middle of Roland's brow, remains. “--I am well, if not a slight of tilting Posture. Dost thou wish me to leave?” asks he quietly; willing to negotiate comforts, if tonally possible.
It's no less disconcerting to have that extra, wary eye fixed on him. Astarion stands rigidly in place, fingers twitching at his side for his knife— just in case— though he has no real desire to hurt Roland. Whatever he is, it's obvious that Astarion underestimated him. He feels dizzy, still, flushed with euphoria, as if he might begin floating at any moment.
His hand relaxes after a moment. If he is to die like this, well, at least he'll die happy. But Roland seems, slowly, to begin to calm, if the burst of light around him fading is any indication. "You could have told me to stop," he says, defensively, although Roland already assured him he did not do wrong.
"Are you alright?" he repeats. "Physically, I mean. Is there something I should... do? Do you drink water?" What use a star could have for water any more than Astarion himself has, he can't quite fathom, but Roland has been enjoying food and drink of all sorts thus far.
#it's totally okay ive gone months w/o replying👌#theautumnpicker#v; the weight#th; Mabon Merry#throat horror for ts#blood mention for ts
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It would not do to have an unobservant ally. Though, not too observant, either. But for now, Astarion seemed willing to keep any and all of his secrets. As for the others? They were too preoccupied with their own problems to likely notice his own eccentricities. Compared to the walking magical bomb in camp, what would anyone pay mind to the quiet sorcerer who had no hang-ups from his past coming to hunt him down? He neither confirms or denies what the other says about he is always testing the other, blue eyes merely shining out with that cloudy mysteriousness. The philosophy of social interactions might confirm this to be true of everyone, would it? Every word, act, weighed against the balance of the relationship. He has high expectations and does not desire to surround himself with those that fail to meet them. He is deserving of worthy company, or as worthy as one can find among mortals — or the undead. But if he thought to say that he wouldn't any too mocking comments about the other's mending, they never reach his lips. "Goodnight," he bids the other with a nod, the tone reverting to what is more his norm, internally going cold at the other's parting words, though it never crosses his face, which bears only that charming smile of his. The ground beneath their feet would sooner split in two and swallow them all up before he would ever feel such a thing as loneliness and seek another out. A weakness that he does not succumb to, like others. But oh, the other will feel it as he whiles away the hours; like being close but not close enough to a campfire. The warmth and safety there, but not quite close enough... He is what keeps Astarion safe, with his magic, his magic, and the other's body will never forget it. It will be a cold, windy night tonight... a chill that will sink into every bone...
"I did notice, my dear." Astarion raises an eyebrow at him. That was the point of teasing him about it. And now that he isn't the only elf in their camp, and Halsin has his keen senses, Varis really ought to be more careful about it. Anyone would think he's taking some kind of drug. But what is it he's avoiding by not sleeping? The dream visitor? Or perhaps something more sinister?
Is Varis trying to reassure him now? Or is he trying to say that he's lonely? Astarion isn't sure if he should laugh or not. If Varis means it for his own sake, he definitely shouldn't... if he's worried about Astarion, he probably should. "No? Aren't you always testing me? That's what I assume." It's the truth, and it's also the sort of thing Cazador would have approved of hearing. "I don't mind it, having the time to myself. I don't have to hear anyone else make inane comments about my sewing." Would they? He doesn't know. What he does know is that sharing a room with five of his siblings involved being subjected to an enormous amount of stupid nonsense.
"Goodnight, Varis. You can come find me if you get lonely." More teasing. Astarion leaves on that note, pleased with his decision not to let Varis into his own tent when he has to clear away a pile of clutter from the inside to get enough room to repair his clothing.
#theautumnpicker#v: let them dedicate their lives to your glory ; let them kill to be near you. you are above all
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