@blckmask

HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! 🪻💙

JAY HOLY SHIT???? THANK YOU THIS IS BEAUTIFUL 💙💜

lanaya listens to him berating her and she takes it, because it is deserved. she deserves it. as he said, she kept it from her. what was she supposed to do? there was nothing to be done and nothing could prolong her life that was already on borrowed time. " are you done scolding me, leon? " her mind was still reeling, it hadn't even processed what she may or may not have hid from her partners, which wasn't relevant nor was it on her mind. she thought of the truth on her gods and what they found out in the ruins, the secret agents in the inquisition, her dear friend being the dread wolf. she made a mental note to herself to do her own research and find out everything she could. " there was nothing that could be done about it except relieve the pain. it was his magic, only he could fix it. and -- why didn't you notice? you're a mage. "

LANAYA + LEON / @blckmask.

TIME FOR SOME POSITIVITY! | @skyheld

send 🍀 and i'll recommend an oc rp blog

@blckmask sent: [ broken ] sender tries to stabilize receivers broken limb with rope and sticks. Injury Starters | Accepting

❝ RIGHT. ❞ He grits his teeth as he watches Leon gather sticks and pull out his rope. It's the only resources they have right now, and he's not walking on a BROKEN ANKLE no matter how badly he wishes it were possible. ❝ SO THIS IS HAPPENING. ❞

He's broken BONES before. Comes with the territory, really - Repelling darkspawn, fighting off bandits, even resisting the assassination attempt every now and then - but there's something still WORSE about it happening out here, where they're miles from anywhere with a proper healer.

When he gets to work, Leon's artificial fingers are cold enough to make his skin prickle, but they work with a PRECISION that's impressive even under given circumstances. He's steady and Alistair will never get over how DEXTROUSLY those fingers can work, the fascination the only thing cutting through the PAIN. ❝ You've done this before, I take it? ❞ the blond tries conversationally while very pointed keeping his gaze on anything but the injury. ❝ Or are you just naturally gifted at surviving the wilderness? ❞

The rope pulls taut against his leg and the sticks, securing them but drawing a painful grunt out of Alistair that he tries to pass off with a dismissive GRIN that probably looks much more like a GRIMACE. The splint makes the leg secure but the sticks supporting it are NOT QUITE EVEN - one is slightly curved, the other has a knot that he can already feel against his skin - and the whole thing feels like it could shatter with too much effort. But he's CAREFUL, and after a few rounds of rope the whole thing feels considerably more STURDY.

Not to mention the relieving cold that feels NUMBING against his skin, dulling the worst of the ACHE and cutting through the SHARP PAINS of movement. It makes the whole repair process almost bearable, except that he knows the walk back is going to be absolute agony. ❝ So, ❞ Alistair tries again anyway, trying to be light and encouraging and all the other positive emotions he doesn't quite feel. ❝ What the prognosis, Doc? On a scale of ❛ YOU'LL BE FINE ❜ to ❛ START WRITING YOUR FAREWELL LETTERS, ❜ how bad do you think it is? ❞

Robin is used to getting distrustful looks thrown his way. It seems no matter how far he roams, his reputation as a thief is impossible to shake; or perhaps there is simply something about him, that he gives the air of someone untrustworthy. Thie evening though, he finds that the glances and murmurs that can fill a room aren't, for once, directed at himself.

There is someone far more worthy of stares and hushed murmurs at the bar.