|| Starter Call ||
Gonna go ahead and put out a call for starters I will get to tomorrow.
sheepfilms
noise dept.
cherry valley forever
Peter Solarz

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Xuebing Du

#extradirty
todays bird
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature
Mike Driver
One Nice Bug Per Day
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

blake kathryn

@theartofmadeline
Cosimo Galluzzi

PR's Tumblrdome
ojovivo

⁂


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@eldritchmamae
|| Starter Call ||
Gonna go ahead and put out a call for starters I will get to tomorrow.

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|| OOC ||
Half my ocs are babies so shipping memes are hard but my few ones that are actual adults are def getting sent to people because I love all of them and will definitely gush about them.
Unless anyone else has some baby characters and then I’m down for cutesy tug boat ships.
|| Headcanon ||
It should be noted that, primarily due to how late and close to the revolution Ghilan’nain joined the Evanuris she had little quarrel with Fen’Harel compared to the other gods. She did not have the deep history that brought forth a sense of betrayal when he turned. To Ghilan’nain he was an enemy but not one of enough significance to evoke any sort of emotional response.
@demichevalier replied to your post :|| OOC ||
oh no
Hey there, kiddo want some free candy?
|| OOC ||
tbh, the first thing Ghil’s doing if she gets freed is grabbing like a half dozen qunari and half-blooded elves and holing up in one of her temples for research because they would FASCINATE HER

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Glory and Gore Go Hand in Hand
"How did you get in here?"
Ghilan’nain flexed her hand, long talon-like claws retracting into thin, delicate fingers that had moments ago torn through an enchanted lock. “I was in need of tools. Quickly.” She never stopped moving, even as she spoke, sifting through boxes and carefully retrieving what she needed. Her latest experiment had been a volatile one but satisfying in spite of the struggle.
Careful fingers grasped the so very needed tool as she plucked it from the box and folded it neatly in a small cloth before placing it into her bag. All without so much as glancing up at her brother.
“I will repay you when I have finished.”
"Even if you could, you would wish you hadn’t."
“Andruil said it’s possible–I could be a goddess,” The youth whispered fiercely–For she was so young, young enough to believe the Evanuris’ godhood to be true. To believe that her own offered elevation was a gift and not a way to keep the powerful mage close and under closer watch. “I have to try, the creatures I could create with those kind of resources.”
Already the alluring song of creation danced about her skull, echoing and nearly maddening in it’s persistence. She would have to destroy what she had created yet, thousands of her children would die but she could recreate them once she rose to power. Make them better and stronger.
“I only have to impress them.”
|| Headcanon ||
Ghilan’nain is an exceptionally talented shapeshifter due to her extensive knowledge of anatomy and physiology. It is not however a talent which she endeavors to be made known–As it would likely draw attention the fact that the form which she is most often seen taking is not actually her true form.
That being said, her bodies current unglamoured form is still not her original form, her own body having been altered and changes dozens of times via self-augmentations made before her resources allowed her to experiment on others.
|| Headcanon ||
As the youngest of the Evanuris Ghilan’nain is by far the least mature of the group. For all of her prodigal talent she can be both petulant when things do not go her way and impatient when it comes to anything besides her experiments.
Without the wealth of time and experience to pull on when her hand is finally forced she lashes out with violence and carnage, often at the hands of her great war beasts. She relies on shock and awe tactics in battle along with demoralization of her enemies at the sight of the monstrous being that make up her armies.

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|| Headcanon ||
Ghilan’nain has been known to experiment upon her own temple sentinels. It is not at all unusual to see one in Ghilan’nain’s service with altered bodies. Most common are limbs spliced from animals and sometimes even demons, turning hands into claws or normal legs into monstrous hind legs.
“Eh, what they lack in self-awareness they make up for in… assimilating the toxins of other cultures so-” a shrug, “Credit where it’s due, I s’pose.”
“No, no--They’re so sloppy. Molding is fine, you know. Change is inevitable and sometimes delicate hands are vital to spurn it forward and shape it into something better. Shem’len lack the grace for such things and so they should leave it to those of us who possess the necessary skills.”
“Sometimes I wonder if shem’lens even realize the poisons that live within their very veins. I’ve attempted to study it but the exact cause is so elusive. They leach the life of lesser People and even creatures of the wild as they misshape them into imperfect beings to do their bidding. So distasteful.”
wardenofthearcane
“The way magic flows here is so clumsy-- There are even those who can’t wield it at all. Such an awful way to live.”
|| Starter Call ||
Like for a starter for Ghily, if you have anything specific in mind hit me up in an ask.

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Go on anon and tell my muse about a rumor you’ve heard
it can be about their friends, family, or even them!
He recognizes the Dalish words from the little time that he has spent amongst the People. Though his mother had been of a Clan, she had left before giving birth to him and he had never had the chance to be marked by vallaslin, nor learned much of their meaning but that they signified adulthood.
“I am marked for no Elvehn gods, but the Antivan Crows,” his hand comes up to stroke his cheek. It was not often that he thought on his tattoos, for they had been a part of him for so long.
Where some of her kin would have shown disdain at one of the People, however far an offshoot, that wore markings besides their own Ghilan’nain’s expression showed nothing but curiosity. “Crows?” She echoed, mind immediately straying to the ravens of her brother. Perhaps there was a connection but she couldn’t be sure.
“They’re lovely, clearly done by an experienced hand.” While she wasn’t her brother June with his clever tools and deft fingers she was a craftswoman of sorts in her own right, if only of a different sort. She could easily appreciate the skill such a task would have taken, even if she’d never chosen to mark her own face in such a way.