#miinstrel

There’s glitter in every crevice, in e’ery nook of the bar’s backstage vanity, and Roland is borne ‘twards a lap, and some in his styled hair. He scoffs hard, and makes faces at the mirror; work’d on his eyelashes.

“Dost thou have spare greasepaint, Maryden?” asks he; looking o’er his shoulder, festooned in tassels and the bright green glitter of a forestry eye-shadow. The wings of his liner are sharp enough to sieve daggers, and Roland’s finely-shaved and trimmed eyebrows rise with beautific brilliance; unknown and Known his miraculous, outer Beauty.

He’s e’en adorned his nails; a sharp, amber yellow, decadent with gold, heavy rings.

    Leliana didn’t often have time to come to the tavern, and that was something she regretted. The merriment that occurred here, the camaraderie between the people the Inquisitor had recruited was all too familiar as the sounds of banter filled the air. Sera was betting a bit too much on a game of Wicked Grace, and Varric looked about ready to cash in on her folly. It wasn’t long before she heard the frustrated groan of the elf losing her sovereigns.

    The spymaster was in a corner, nursing a goblet of ale. She preferred wine, but the atmosphere here called for something a bit more.. blunt. She could indulge in it tonight. Her corner was close enough that she could hear the song sailing through the building. No promise surviving the Breach in the sky. Leliana decided that she had to come down to the tavern more often, if only to hear what other songs the minstrel has written.

“that song about sera, did you make it up yourself?” it’s terribly catchy, enough that she finds herself humming it under her breath from time to time before coughing to mask any hint of it, “it’s...incredibly accurate.” 

Salty munday prompts

15. What is your biggest pet peeve?

To no one’s surprise, I actually have a few:

Please give me something to play off of in your replies. If your response amounts to “k” then I’m probably not gonna have anything to say to that. RP over.

Please do not approach me with plot ideas about Zevran taking an assassination contract on your character. Contrary to what fandom believes, Zevran is pretty damn good at what he does, and has very good reasons for failing to kill the player character. So chances are, he’s going to kill your character, and I don’t think you actually want that. If you are actually ok with that possibility, then cool, let’s talk. But I’m not interested in disempowering my character just to make yours look cool.

If your blog theme has so much aesthetic that it hurts to even read your rules (see: tiny font size, black text on black bg, etc) then I’m probably not going to interact with you. Keep in mind that some of us have bigger resolutions, which makes everything look smaller. So if your theme is small to begin with, rest in pepperoncinis.

PARTY BANTER ; SELECTIVELY ACCEPTING ; @miinstrel​

COLE: Orlais is very confusing. 

MARYDEN: It is. But it has its charm, too. 

COLE: Lyres and liars, shadows and songs. A man you knew walked home but never arrived. Bright masks hide dark eyes, and darker intentions. 

MARYDEN: Yes, I suppose. Though, I was talking about the Summerday festivities. 

COLE: I like the cakes.

Roland’s spun around and around on the shining eve of his birthday, and the booze flows freely, and the bar is teeming with good food, good spirits, and happy, ruddy faces.

Roland swings his arm around the waist of his friend, his singing Partner, his sweet-faced duetess, and kisses her on the mouth, and spins her and actually kicks heels together, and goes back inside the group’s revelry!

a hug + kiss combo.