((Skyrim OC and sidebar image by moonsbreath. Because of the influx of people, I can't make a follow prompt right away like I used to, but if you'd like to RP, let me know!))
((So, being a bit neglectful of my RP blogs, as well as contemplating a few discussions I’ve had with friends, have made me kind of anxious as of late. And so, I wanted to ask you guys just for general feedback. I’m kind of stuck in a bind with class and work and a plethora of IRL stuff so I understand if I’ve been neglecting my threads here and there, but…
I was just wondering if any of you would be able to help me answer a few questions? Even with something as casual as RPing, I’m pretty dead serious about honesty. It is paramount for me. I hate having people sugarcoat things or lie—if something is shit, tell me it’s shit and how it can get better. I respect honest people so much.
So with that being said, if anyone feels there’s anything I could improve on (i.e, availability, promptness to answer threads, willingness to plot with you, character development, giving you something to respond with) please let me know. This goes for whatever blog I ran you’re rping with or have rped with in the past. I want and am looking for bluntness. If you feel I’m bad at getting responses out and that I should work on that, let me know. If you feel like I suck at character development, let me know! If you feel I do not pay enough effort or attention to you/your replies/your messages, or if you think I am judgmental or if you have some certain criticism against me, please let me know. Hell, it can even be a compliment! I won’t be offended by anything you hurl at me as long as it is kept strictly to criticism against the way I RP or the way I treat people. In fact, I’m desperately curious and I’ll probably be asking you for suggestions and pointers.
The main point of this, is I want to fix problem areas. It’s just the way I am. I am my worst critic, and I am a paranoid freak obsessed with pleasing everyone and myself. I’m slowly trying to learn how to be selfish, but in terms of RPing which is basically a collaborative effort, I’m trying really hard for feedback. I am really concerned about what you all think and whether or not I’m being a good/bad RP partner and a good/bad mod! It’ll be great too because it’ll give me room with which to learn.
I might be reblogging this throughout the day as I realize it’s 7 AM and most people aren’t on yet, but it’s been bugging me! So with that being said, sorry for the text wall and I hope I get some messages <3))
“Rarely are stares welcoming to begin with, Reachman.” She grinned, looking at him curiously. Wasn’t he supposed to be a warrior? Was he a Ravager, or a Briarheart, or something along those lines? She wasn’t exactly familiar with all their titles or statuses. She just knew they lived in Redoubts and one had a little butterfly in his chest and her guard enjoyed being dominated by women larger than himself. That was, essentially, the limit of her knowledge at this time. Maybe she could find out a little more from this fellow.
“Seaghdh is busy elsewhere?” Sontaire mused, tapping her chin, “He’s usually what keeps his brother at bay. Remi could be near my Bordello right now, looking for him…” There was something resigned and forlorn to her voice in this moment, as if she had figured out this might not be for the best in a split second.
An idea crossed her thoughts. “You could come back with me, dear. I’ll see to it that you find Remi, but if he’s not there, he will be eventually, I surmise.”
Currach smiled briefly. “That much is true.” And upon realizing that he’d gawked at his newly made lady friend in the same manner, averted his eyes quickly.
“Seaghdh…is busy,” he affirmed, finally—but with what, he wasn’t sure. The last time he’d sought out the archer, he’d walked in on him brandishing what appeared to be some form of dildo. Since then, he’d really opted against asking him any more questions.
“I volunteered to watch over Remi in my spare time,” he explained. “While I also know Remi to some extent, I did not truly realize how much of a handful he was until just recently.” Currach’s brows raised, however, at Sontaire’s remark. Why would Seaghdh be here?
“Does Seaghdh frequent this place often?” he asked, curiously. “Ah, I mean, your…Bordello?” He had no idea what a bordello even /was/, but hopefully it would all make itself clear to him later. Still, hearing that Remi would eventually frequent the place was relieving. Currach never would’ve assumed Remi to know of a place like this, but then again, the two brothers were always full of strange surprises.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding. “I appreciate your help. It’s important that I see him home.”
“Yes, it does.” she nodded, “It marks me as an archer from Clan MacGillivray of Evermor. They’re also supposed to channel the Old Gods to protect me in battle. Mostly, they link me as a follower of The Morrigan with the hope that I am given the cunning of a crow when faced with adversity. All archers are supposed to be cunning and be able to adapt quickly. Read the wind and terrain properly so a shot is never wasted and always find its mark. The kind of stuff.”
Ishbel looked the man over and tried to avert her eyes as much as possible from the hole in his chest. He was peaking in a civil manner which helped to calm her nerves, but she was still on her guard. Judging from how she was treated when she crossed the border, she couldn’t afford to be too lax around Reachmen, which made her slightly sad in a way.
“Your makings mean things too, right?” she asked.
“Your clan’s beliefs do not differ much from our own,” remarked Currach. “We value the same strengths in our own archers—with time, they learn to read the wind, and the terrain, as well as the changes in the hums of the earth. The Old Gods guide them through the hunt, as they guide all of us.
“The Morrigan is defintely one of our matron deities; they live on in the Revered Mothers of our clans, gifting us with knowledge, power, and insight. Some say it is she who gave Red Eagle his power, in exchange for his humanity.” He smiled briefly, nodding down at his chest.
“And the cycle goes on. It is an honor to give myself to the tradition.” At least, it was what he wanted to believe. “My markings in particular reflect who I believe myself to be. I pick my battles carefully, and I attempt to address my troubles with words, against a blade. My role is that of a protector, and being the one who oversees Red Eagle’s Redoubt and the Sundered Towers, I find it is my duty to preserve Faolan’s home as well as those before me.
“That is what my marks mean, at least to me.”
Endris cocked his head at the question. Poisoning a rival was fair game but a whole family? He wasn’t Helseth! “Of course not, they didn’t do anything to me. Children are a rare thing for Dunmer, and I’m sure his wife would have had no trouble in remarrying. I may be Telvanni but I’m not evil.” he pouted. “Killing rivals is just a part of life, but killing unrelated bystanders isn’t.”
Currach blinked. “Telvanni?” Part of him felt like he should’ve known these things, but in all honesty his past memories yielded nothing on this. “Are they usually an evil sort?”
It felt like a foolish and naive thing to ask, but he was relieved to hear, at least, that Endris had left the wife and child unharmed. “That is kind of you. And I understand your motives for revenge, though I wonder if his family had grieved over the loss, any.”
Perhaps it was a silly thing for a Briarheart of his sort to say, but he couldn’t help but wonder.
The goat seemed to be more attentive, probably because it was a bit older, and gave a bleat, almost as if it understood. It seemed the animals that followed Rémi around were unusually intelligent. Or at least the goat was, the dog seemed normal enough.
The white animal trotted back a few paces, staring at Currach, and gave another bleat. It wanted to be followed!
Currach did not hesitate, and at the bleat, followed the goat curiously. He quietly hoped he wasn’t being led on a wild goose chase—or in this case, a wild goat chase—as he’d never really seen this goat before, but it was the only lead he had for now.
So he nodded as the goat looked back at him, as if conveying that he’d follow.
Indeed, there was something there. A little puppy, red and wiry fur, wet with water as it lapped at the stream. The goat followed Currach and seemed familiar with the dog, because the little creature went up to the white goat and sniffed at it, before sniffing all around Currach’s feet and licking his leg.No Rémi.
Currach bit his lip. Now he was surrounded by animals—surely pets of Remi—and he hadn’t any idea where Remi was, yet! The Briarheart peered down at the two creatures, watching them. Maybe eventually, they’d lead him along? The dog seemed to be sniffing the goat and appeared relatively friendly. At any rate, he hoped he’d find Remi soon—he didn’t want the man getting into any trouble.
He finally knelt down at the pup, gesturing towards the stream with a nod. “Have you seen Remi?”
It seemed almost ridiculous to talk to a creature to whom he had no ties, but the dog and the goat were certainly not stupid—maybe they’d prove to be helpful in finding the Briarheart.
There are some who say that The Morrigan was a powerful Breton Witch Queen that helped her people in their rebellion against the elves. They says she was as ruthless as she was beautiful and no elf wanted to see her face looking to them with eyes of heavy judgement. Always she was followed by a flock of crows and ravens that pick off the dead in the battle field and pluck out the eyes of her enemies. Her magic was unmatched even by the most skilled of elven magisters and she lay down proof that human mages were a force to be reckoned with. She was the prime and beautiful example of the upper limits and possibilities of Breton magic.
Endris beamed. He was surprised- most people called him names or said hurtful things when he took the urn out. “We were headed to a cave to stay the night because we had things planned that we didn’t want our parents to see. We were collecting ingredients along the way. My House- clan, if you will- is quite a brutal, petty grouping of mages, and whilst we were separated briefly, Endris- I mean Endase…was attacked by a rival. We’d recently been promoted, and that had made a few of our peers jealous. Unfortunately, she was killed before I returned, her body charred beyond recognition. It did make the cremation a lot easier for the priest, I suppose. I managed to drive her killer off, and later poisoned him- years later, he’d had a wife and children in the time- and here I am now.” Endris explained, mentally kicking himself for getting the name ‘wrong’. He didn’t mind talking about it, though it was one of the few times when he’d drop the happy-go-lucky facade.
It was a sad story, that much was true. Still, he had hardly expected the mer to go poison the killer. In fact, the whole tale was extremely violent, and while his own brothers tended to lean more towards brute force for results, the Dunmeri way was pparently governed more by subtlety and elaborate stratagems.
He wasn’t sure which one he disliked more.
“I am sorry for your loss,” he whispered. “When you went to poison your sister’s killer, did you…” Currach hesitated. “Did you kill his wife and children, too?”
If so, he wasn’t sure he wanted to stay around this mer much longer.
“Oh.” she stiffened, “No. I’m not. I’m from Evermor on the other side of the mountain.”Ishbel fidgeted a bit as she spoke, not sure whether she should be polite or put up a strong fight. She was talking to someone who was, essentially, undead and that bothered her immensely. The thought didn’t cross her mind with Rémi for some reason. His childish nature steered her perception away from the fact that he was an act of Necromancy, but this one with his clear sentience and obvious intelligence bothered her. Only know did she notice the veins showing underneath his skin that was pale as night. Only now did she notice the hole in his chest with what looked like a hastily tied mesh made of plant roots. Inside, there was a single briarheart tied to the body by both magic and nature. It was almost disgusting.
“And you’re from here,” she said, “Your woad looks familiar but different from another one I met. Seaghdh, the archer.”
“Evermor.” He echoed her words, acknowledging them and trying to think of what he’d heard. “The other side of the mountain? That must mean Evermor is across the border.”
Inwardly, he twinged with the desire to cross that same mountain and see the place for himself. Then again, he wanted to see many places, put memories to names. Perhaps he could quell that sudden curiosity by asking her about the place, later.
Still, she seemed a bit standoffish, and he wasn’t sure why. He stood up, glancing down at his fingers and noticing the dried up dye on his hands. Ah, well, that could wait.
“I am familiar with Seaghdh. And yes, they represent many different things. As different people, it also represents who we are. His woad is very fitting of his role in the redoubts.” I…I want to think mine is, as well.”
He gestured at hers with a nod. They were beautiful and intricate in many different ways than his own. “Does yours reflect on you in any particular way? They are very nicely done.”
