ย ย ย ย โ ๐จ๐น๐ช๐ฏ๐จ๐ฌ๐ฝ๐จ๐ณ . an iconless, independent, and selective roleplay blog for THE LADY RUBY, based on original lore. Portrayal inspired by high fantasy, old faerie folklore, beauty and the beast, and slight horror. Verses include modern, D.ragon Age, L.ord of the Rings, C.lair Obscur, BG3, and more. Runs mostly on queue. Penned by Ree (they/them, 30+, PST).
โ i. carrd โ ii. open starters โ iii. memes โ iv. headcanons โ v. verses โ vi. plotting guide โ vii. aesthetic sideblog โ
๐จ ๐บ๐ป๐ผ๐ซ๐ ๐ฐ๐ต . . . the cyclical nature of folklore, fairy tale villains, monstrosity as armor, the costs of true immortality, gilded cages lovingly tended, knowledge both kept and forgotten, the vanity of beasts, hearts buried deep, ancient wounds not yet healed, curiosity and coldness that burn, and the monstrous things a mother would do for her child.
pinned/header graphics by @melniibone
pinned art commissioned from vonnev on bsky
ย ย โ ๐ฎ๐ผ๐ฐ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฌ๐บ
THE MUN
I am Ree, they/them, 30+ and live in the PST / GMT - 8 timezone.
BASICS
01. Basic roleplaying etiquette applies. No godmodding, meta-gaming, AI use, bigotry etc. Regarding meta-gaming, most muses can know about Rubyโs reputation ahead of time, if they are familiar with legends of the fair folk.
02. I am selective but not mutual-exclusive. I am also multi/poly-ship, multi-verse, and crossover-friendly. That being said, I don't tend to follow new folks as I am already overwhelmed by my dash. Please don't take a lack of follow as a lack of interest; you should still absolutely reach out via DM or send in an ask meme if you want to write together!
03. Please come chat with me! I try to keep things lighthearted around here, so if youโre nervous about reaching out to plot, or for any other reason, message me what your favorite animal is first. Just please note: I am super scattered and have a poor working memory, so I might forget to respond for a while. Please don't take this as a lack of interest; it's just a lack of brain on my part.
04. Iโm also an inbox fiend! If you reblog an inbox/ask meme, Iโll try to send something in. Donโt feel pressured at all to get to all of them, itโs all just for fun. If you want me to send something and I miss the post, send it to me directly and Iโll gladly do so.
05. While this is technically a dual-muse blog, Ruby is the default muse. Please let me know if you want to write with Jane.
06. Please feel free to remind me about replies if youโre concerned I missed it. I am scattered and busy, and itโs very possible I did just that.
07. DNI if you write muses from Harry Potter or have a Harry Potter verse. This includes multi-muses. There are no exceptions.
TRIGGERS PRESENT ON THIS BLOG
Spiders, fantasy body horror, violence, past trauma (usually only hinted at, including grooming, abuse, family death, infant death, etc)
REGARDING ARACHNOPHOBIA: I never want to trigger someoneโs arachnophobia. I rarely reblog spider imagery, and will always tag it with spider cw or spiders cw. I am also absolutely open to any number of verses and AU where Ruby takes a human form โ even if itโs not a verse that currently exists on my page โ so please let me know asap if thatโs preferable. That being said, if you think you would be too uncomfortable regardless and donโt want to write with Ruby, I fully understand and hope you have a great day.
PLOTTING AND MEMES
I prefer to roughly plot ahead of time and have an idea of what weโre thinking of, but I am open to playing it by ear. I am also very open to preestablished relationships if we discuss them beforehand.
I am more than happy to write some darker plots, including abuse, violence, murder, etc. Ruby will hurt people, and is immortal, so she will recover from any injury. To a far lesser extent, I am open to putting Jane in vague danger, but this requires at least some pre-plotting so that weโre on the same page.
If you want to continue a thread from an ask, please create a new post and tag me in it, rather than reblogging the ask, or message me if you need me to do it.
NSFW content will be present. I love writing and drawing smut. It will always be under a cut and tagged appropriately.
Anything Goes AUs. If I reblog a spicy ask meme and we haven't plotted, or if we have a plot where it doesn't make sense, you can still send something in. Just specify that it's an anything goes au. This way, it'll be it's own little verse where we don't have to worry about forcing a ship that may not work in our usual verses.
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Watched blade runner 2049 with a few friends, and naturally I had to recreate that one scene with my best girl Ruby, with a tiny cameo from @mooonborne's Roland. Progress gif under the cut
๐ป๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐พ๐ฐ๐ต๐ซ๐บ ๐ช๐จ๐น๐น๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ซ ๐ป๐ฏ๐น๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐บ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ท๐บ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ป๐ถ ๐ท๐ถ๐น๐ป that day alone, which meant Ruby's girls would be working for a week straight. Aside from what they paid for room and board, the coin remained their own, which meant they'd be spending well the week after. Ruby herself managed the finances as needed, as not every one of her girls wanted to learn arithmetic.
"I should make it mandatory," she mused over her tea cup. "If they want an account book, they ought to manage it themselves, no?" Her french accent dripped from every word, but she'd been known on both sides of the Atlantic for her beauty just three years ago. Now, scar-faced and somber, she sat across from Elric Silverskin, entertaining the pirate in her parlor.
Elsewhere in the manor, the sounds of working girls punctuated their conversation -- there was no perfect soundproofing in this port -- but it made for a peaceful break from her usual work bent over ledgers and numbers. "You've kept up on your letters and arithmetic, I hope. It won't do to let such skills go to waste just because they aren't always necessary at sea."
๐ป๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐น๐ถ ๐ถ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ฌ๐น๐ฌ๐ณ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ต ๐ฏ๐จ๐ซ ๐ด๐ถ๐น๐ฌ ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐บ ๐บ๐ฏ๐ถ๐ผ๐ณ๐ซ๐ฌ๐น๐บ than any one man should ever be expected to bear. Ruby had suggested it was nothing less than a great honor that he allow her to join the Inquisition, rather than a desperate ploy for safety from those who would call for her head. Skyhold was proving to be a suitable headquarters after the ravaging of Haven, though the organization of its scholars left much to be desired.
"I'm working on a system, sir," she explained, guiding Behni down a row that did not have too many books stacked on the floor. The shelves were half-bare, their contents set aside to be catalogued and organized as soon as she had the time. "Books were placed randomly until just recently, and it is a useful endeavor on either side of penning and managing correspondence."
Speaking of that, Ruby stopped at the end of the aisle where a letter sat waiting on her desk. "I would ask you to review this missive before I send it out to the requisitions officer in case there is anything else you think we might need."
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it would be foolish to dismiss Clea's creations as anything but deadly, yet their finesse continually caught her eye; akin to animals in their instincts, a great many still held some matter of intelligence.
the answer once again takes a minute to vocalize, considered carefully - "No, i have not taken notes, but I have made observations." the Cruler forged weapons which she has seen other nevrons such as the glaise and gault wield, indicating at least some communal awareness; even the demineur, simple beings with their ever-present mines, appeared to understand strategy to some extent. their ambushes had been a right pain in her own ass a fair few times.
"They become more dangerous the further north one travels, but those who dwell around the meadows and corals are still deadly. Here, they tend to have weak spots; best to target those before anything else if it comes to a fight."
๐บ๐ผ๐น๐ฌ๐ณ๐ ๐น๐ผ๐ฉ๐ ๐ฏ๐จ๐ซ ๐จ ๐ต๐ถ๐ป๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ถ๐ถ๐ฒ ๐บ๐ถ๐ด๐ฌ๐พ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐น๐ฌ in her kit. Celia had been forced to take the time and memorize the nevron behaviors, but Ruby didn't have that luxury right now. If she could collate everything, maybe she and any other potential survivors would have a chance to study before risking their lives.
But there was that habit of momentum again. Ruby had come to the continent expecting to die. Why think so far ahead now? Why bother doing anything but laying down and waiting for her doom? She said nothing for a long moment, mulling over her options. Would Celia leave her if she asked? How many others had she met? How many had she tried and failed to save?
What did that do to a person's psyche after so long?
"There was a man when we first made land," she said at last. "An old man, with graying hair. He ... seemed to have abilities beyond that of a regular expeditioner when he attacked the group. Do you know anything about him?"
Living with him is like being told a perpetual story: his mind is the biggest, most imaginative, I have ever met. I could live in its growing countries forever.ย
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath โ โ 22nd July 1956
He does look good there, knelt low and with his big hands. They are primly those hands of a hero, of the hail mary of the stars, and of the man with whom the fate of all humanity has settled upon. Yet, here, their ship groaning at near speed-of-light velocity, they didn't seem crimped in glitter or stars or a godly glow. Instead, they look as all hands do, so human with its nicks that lick a path along his thumbs. And she has felt them before, tragically, rubbing the aches out her muscles with a surgical knowing, and even stripped of the memory of their evenings together...
She clings to them hungrily.
And he does, too. He works his thumbs. Or at least his body does. And, no, it isn't for anything so salacious, so unfathomably scandalous and as bawdy as that, but simply in that manner a flame would to a wick. It is only science. His atoms remenber her. It's all DNA.
"Okay. How about a show of friendship then?" And he wishes she would acknowledge that. He thinks about it. But maybe in an effort to spare herself some heartache, even gentle his guilt some, she has made every conceivable effort to cleave in distance.
"I'm not thinking that, but oh. Yeah. Snatches. She's your daughter. She brought in a diorama of a meganeuropsis โ that's a mouthful โ and I gave her an A++. You told me you had paper machรฉ in your hair for a solid week afterward at parent-teacher night, and I said it suited you. Pretty sure I also added how that made you really cool." Oh. He remembered that. It just โ came up. And not just that, but other glimpses, too, of cozy home-dinners, or of her her plucking him up as he biked to work in the rain. His eyes widen, that blue she's come to yearn for, never, ever too far away, flickering a flash of silver clarity. "Woah. Iโ" What? His hands still. They rest up near the inside of her knee, oddly intimate, a motion he hadn't even thought about, before he gathers himself. I'm sorry. This isn't obligation. That was justโ "That did happen, right? Feels like a lot happened."
๐จ ๐ท๐จ๐น๐ป ๐ถ๐ญ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ด ๐ด๐ผ๐บ๐ป ๐น๐ฌ๐ด๐ฌ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฌ๐น ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐น, right? If only vaguely. Distant, dream-like impressions of a too-tall woman made of angles and sharp edges, who softened for two people and two people only. She'd never see one of them again, and the other had probably forgotten how to read her subtle shifts and cues. He'd forgotten everything else at first. It isn't fair to expect him to remember her subtleties amidst everything else.
Still, it's bittersweet. A selfish part of her rails against the revelation -- why do you remember that, but you can't remember me? -- but she presses it down deep, hopefully to be forgotten all too soon. His fingers behind her knee -- it's too intimate, brings heat to her face that she can't banish so easily. But he does remember Jane, thirteen and wide-eyed, too intelligent for anyone to keep up with her. She'd be in grad school by now, likely looking into internships and applying for grants. ( Does she resent her mother for having to go? How badly does she wish things had happened differently? )
"A lot happened, yes. We knew each other for almost six years before launch." The word carries more weight than she wants to admit. Friendship had always been difficult for her, having never had the chance to really learn how to make any. And here came Grace, stumbling in with papers to grade and later formulas and data to analyze, unaware of what he was doing. He's guileless even now, just trying to do his best.
"I was never very good at shows of friendship." If you remembered, you'd know that. She's being unfair. She knows it. Again, Ruby does her best to extend a hand, poor as the attempt may be. "But we were friends back then." It's not the right word for what they'd been, but she doesn't know what else there is to say.
Watched blade runner 2049 with a few friends, and naturally I had to recreate that one scene with my best girl Ruby, with a tiny cameo from @mooonborne's Roland. Progress gif under the cut
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Their troupe all but dragged themselves back to camp after a series of hard-fought and won battles throughout their trek. Though Nabooru wished she could chalk freezing in the final battle up to sheer exhaustion but she knew better. No matter how it frustrated her, no matter how much progress she made in practicing with Gale when they could spare the energy and time, the sight of fire hurled at her from the hand of some mage seized her muscles and rooted her to the spot. If not for Ruby's shield spell, she would certainly be limping back to camp in far worse shape.
Though a proud woman, Nabooru did not count herself above offering credit and thanks where it was due. Once Halsin healed her wounds--salves and bandages per her request this time; she still felt a little raw from her trauma episode eariler--and released her from his care, she strode across camp to Ruby's tent. Right hand rubbing her left bicep, she cleared her throat when she came into view of the sorceress.
" I just wanted to say thank you for back there. The shield spell, I think it was? " A guess based on how the rapid-fire shots of flames shot at her exploded on contact with the shimmer of a magical wall that burst forth around her. The bridge of her nose scrunched briefly, the thought of why she needed to step in still a sore spot, an embarrassment. Though, she shook her head and once more offered a small, grateful smile. " I'd definitely be in a lot worse shape if you hadn't cast that. A bit crispier, as it were. "
๐น๐ผ๐ฉ๐ ๐บ๐ป๐ฐ๐ณ๐ณ ๐ท๐ผ๐น๐บ๐ผ๐ฌ๐ซ ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐น ๐น๐ฌ๐บ๐ฌ๐จ๐น๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฌ๐ฝ๐ฌ๐น๐ chance she got, comparing her notes on the parasites to Halsin's, and scouring every book she could get her hands on that even so much as mentioned mindflayers and their tadpoles. Maybe Moonrise held answers for a cure, maybe not. But she hadn't survived this long by relying on what-ifs and maybes.
She had her nose buried in a book when Nabooru approached, and looked up with a start. The woman's words of thanks came at a surprise; they were teammates were they not? Allies, for as long as they both had this shared affliction. "Yes, a shield spell," she answers with a nod. "A fragile shield conjures to protect someone from a spell of a similar or lower level."
"But think nothing of it," Ruby goes on. "You are my ally. I would not see you harmed in battle." Ruby assumed it would go without saying that they would protect each other in a fight. If anyone had reason to understand Nabooru's fear of fire, it was Ruby, who had yet to shake her own phobia after so many years. It had its claws in her, and she knew she'd freeze the second someone cast wall of fire in her vicinity. It was only right that she keep Nabooru from suffering the consequences of a similar condition.
๐น๐ผ๐ฉ๐ ๐บ๐ถ๐ญ๐ป๐ฌ๐ต๐บ ๐ญ๐ผ๐น๐ป๐ฏ๐ฌ๐น ๐ผ๐ต๐ป๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ป๐ฏ๐ฌ๐น๐ฌ'๐บ no mistaking her expression. Something bubbling inside her, the fluttering in her chest, the urge to reach out and take Grace's fidgeting hands. "You're very good at that," she says. "Lighting things up." It's the most Ruby's complimented anyone in weeks, and she means every word. Harsh as she is around anyone else, Ryland inspires a gentleness in Ruby she can't bring herself to suppress. She's eiderdown-soft, hanging off his every word, snowstorm melting again and again until there's nothing but sunny skies inside.
She's silent for too long, trying to come up with something that isn't just burying her face in work. Once upon a time, she would play pretend with Jane, an evil witch trapping the princess in a tower. She has her books -- mass-market mystery novels that annoy her more often than not. She really needs to stop reading them, Ruby thinks, and makes the same resolution that'd been made countless times over to do just that.
But where did that leave her?
Oh. Right.
Ruby's quiet when she answers at last: "You." She swallows hard and sits up straight. An anxious part of her wonders if this is too much pressure to put on him after everything he'd done for her, knowingly or otherwise. Ruby had never been the type to find solace in company, always preferring to withdraw into herself and escape. But more and more, she finds herself waiting for a text, a call, a chance to see Grace outside of their planned meet-ups. But it's the truth. "I have you." Here is a piece of my heart. It only beats when you're around. Please be gentle with it.
That's-- Grace takes a moment to let those words, each syllable, settle somewhere in the vast net of his synapses. He is struck. She's never been one to just dole out flattery. Even with him, Ruby Lark, a woman of a quieter countenance, of a nature so ever purposeful, so stunningly intentional, has only ever praised him where Jane's concerned. But, then, he found he wasn't in need of the compliments, a part of him grown dizzy with their burgeoning friendship. And, anyway, they've shared so many moments that thrilled him, didn't they? Looking to his Converses, his grin tilts disarmingly private.
"Thanks. Can't take all the credit, though. Sort of helps to have someone to light up for."
He remembers the Christmas party. He remembers the time she had caught him out in the rain. He remembers the car ride after, his declaring her his guardian angel, and had noticed, too, though perhaps only because he wanted to, the color in her cheeks and the shine in her eyes. He remembers when he first stepped into her home, her bookshelves with her fairy tales and her assortment of ever amassing mysteries, and he recalls thinking how had a hope to hold a candle to her. He remembers dinner. And the dessert they'd shared afterward. And off the record, how Vaughan sang of love.
"Wow. You don't mince your words, do you?" He's still wringing his fingers. Far beyond their star-dappled perch, the salted shores, frothing like so much billowing cotton-fleece, laps and laps and in an autumnal twinkle. "I don't know what I'm doing," Grace mutters suddenly. The wind sweeps through his hair, lending him a look of something suffocatingly soft, like a down, like a blanket to claim when she sleeps. "Can't help feeling there's a word for it, though... I like having you."
๐บ๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ซ๐ฐ๐ซ๐ต'๐ป ๐ฒ๐ต๐ถ๐พ ๐พ๐ฏ๐จ๐ป ๐บ๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐พ๐จ๐บ ๐ซ๐ถ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ป๐ฏ๐ฌ๐น. If there was a road map for navigating this thing between them, it had never made it into her hands. They were friends, that much was true. Close confidantes that spoke about everything and nothing. That got each other little gifts and took each other to dinner. If they were different people, younger and more open, she might call this a date. Two people who cared about each other, sitting under the stars in a special place. It would certainly explain the drumming in her chest. The word romance flits across her mind for the briefest second before it's discarded. If she was someone else, maybe it could be. If she was the type of person he deserved to be with, maybe it would be, but as it was, she barely knew how to smile.
At the very least, she can reassure him: "You're doing fine." It's the truth. He's never been anything less than wonderful -- to Jane, to the rest of the kids, to her. Ruby only wishes he had more confidence in himself. "I know I'm not the easiest person to be around." God knows she doesn't even want to be. "I could list off all the ways, but you know me by now." He does, doesn't he? The quieter parts of her that she doesn't bother to show off to the world. Bad jokes and scientific curiosity have no place in managing the foundation, but they do here.
She's silent for a moment, rearranging the words in her mind until they take shape around his silhouette and fit just right. It's hard to explain just how much it means that Grace doesn't just wait for her to speak, but seems to recognise when she's chewing on her words. Maybe there's a tell, a subtle change in her expression, but the fact that he waits means the world. He means the world, and it's becoming more and more difficult not to acknowledge it. "You have this way of getting through all that. Like you have a key and you walk right in, but I'm the one who ends up feeling at home."
ooc. oh right also happy sunday who is going to spend a good 15 minutes sourcing and arranging unnecessary things on ruby's desk to then sweep off in a dramatic show of impulsive passion like she's always hoped for
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Geralt remained silent as her fingers lingered on his skin and he waited for an answer. He was good at that. Even though he enjoyed the touch, as gentle as it was. He felt calmer here than out in the world because he allowed himself to. And because there was no danger here. It was almost a little too quiet, but Geralt could at least get used to it if he let himself. And so could she.
โSo Iโm only good enough to keep you warm?โ His voice betrayed a teasing undertone as one of his hands caressed her face, tracing the contours of her cheek and lingering on her collarbone. There were worse reasons not to have to get up. And he didnโt hold such a statement against her. โAnd Iโm certainly not disappointedโฆ,โ he sighed, leaning forward, closer to her, and replacing his hand with his lips. He lingered like that for just a brief moment, letting his lips caress her skin, before propping himself up again and looking at her. Here, in this sheltered space, everything was different.
๐บ๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ณ๐ฌ๐ป ๐ถ๐ผ๐ป ๐จ ๐ธ๐ผ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ป ๐บ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฏ as he kissed her collarbone. "You know better than to ask questions." The magic that governed her did not care to differentiate between teasing and earnest inquiries. Even now, her eyes flashed in that uncanny way they always did, a reminder that she wasn't human and never would be again.
This mortal shape was so soft compared to her true form, with silky skin and delicate joints. There were always hints if one knew where to look, with her pointed ears and fangs, her uncanny pale eyes. Geralt didn't seem to mind her when she looked like this, but a part of her couldn't help but wonder if he'd dare kiss her like that when she returned to her true self. Not likely, of course. He was too smart to play with that type of fire.
Instead of asking, however, Ruby reached out once more, brushing stray locks of hair from his face, running her fingers along the shape of his jaw. "Tell me, my dear, if you had your way, where would you be right now? Who would you be with?" She wasn't a jealous lover, wouldn't mind if he picked someone else. So long as he said someone who made him happy, she didn't mind at all.
ooc. all u likin that post should write me a starter for a plot where ur muse knows some rubylore. Or come message me and we plot together idk my brain stopped working a few minutes ago lmao blows u all a kiss
