swordproof: (Default)
SIX. ([personal profile] swordproof) wrote in [community profile] faderift2019-10-29 01:19 am

(no subject)

WHO: Solas, Six, Sidony, Ashen, you!
WHAT: General character open post
WHEN: Covering this month.
WHERE: All over!
NOTES: Free for all as I come back from hiatus.


Hit me up for a starter, yo.
elegiaque: (183)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2019-10-31 08:11 am (UTC)(link)
It's not a reaction that Gwenaëlle is accustomed to, and the look she returns to Sidony is quizzical more than particularly bold or defiant; she isn't above making a point of showing off her scandals (...as her costume will declare), but this has more the air of someone casually discussing something that merits nothing more than that. Finally, she settles on, “Then you've been spending time with the wrong people,” a little bit arch. “Come, now, you're a married woman. As long as you do your duty, whoever else you do is between you and the Maker.”

At that, she gets a slightly sly look from one of the attendants and allows, “Though it helps if you actually do your duty, instead of being disgraced and marrying a dirty great elf or Byerly Rutyer.”

Orlais has no complaints about Gwenaëlle's feminine indiscretions; that she married a rifted elf six and a half feet tall is another story.

“Mentioning our husbands is a hell of a lot bolder than talking about who I fucked before I was married. It's no secret I've loved women. If Thranduil had been a woman and I'd just kept him on the side, no one would have batted an eye. Well, until I was disowned, but I had other problems at that point.”

Celene has just about started a trend for high-eared lovers in Val Royeaux, which is terrible, and Gwenaëlle spares them the side-trip through her usual rants about how Celene is terrible as probably not the moment for it. (No wlw solidarity for her.)
indissection: (292)

[personal profile] indissection 2019-10-31 04:45 pm (UTC)(link)
The flush on her cheeks continues and for a moment it is quite clear that Sidony does not know what to say for herself. Byerly had told her enough times that her feelings were more than suitable and she has had the same said to her by Anders on more than one occasion - Anders, who was married to a man! - but... It feels somewhat different when it is herself that she is considering. She feels weighted by it, intensely so, and the knot in her stomach gnaws at her before she breathes out and glances back to her companion, certainly more nervous than she was a moment before.

"Perhaps that is the case." A slow shrug, her fingers curling and uncurling in her lap, a frown marring her features like a gash. "My mother and father certainly did not look upon it fondly and I suppose I was somewhat sheltered before I came to join Riftwatch of my own accord. I was destined to marry some man of noble blood and accept my lot - I did not consider much else for my future, not until Byerly offered me his hand."

Which does the pleasure, at least, of bringing a smile to her face. Anyone would imagine her and Byerly truly a love match, decadently foolish for one another. She is foolish for him, but not because of lust.

"I'd imagine myself close to being disowned if it is not in the work already. My mother was not particularly happy to find out that I had run off with Byerly and I doubt my father would be any more pleased. It is done now, however, and there is nothing that they can do to change the course I have chosen." Even if she and Byerly do continue with their annulment, when the time comes, she will be disgraced. No Nevarran noble will want second-hand goods, so to speak.

Sighing softly, she takes a long drink from her wine.

"There is nothing wrong with affection for women, I know that. I am just unaccustomed to it being stated so boldly. Please forgive me if I appeared... Rude." Her eyes flick over Gwenaëlle's form, lingering, just a little - and, yes. Sidony knows herself far too well.
elegiaque: (055)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2019-11-03 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
It isn't actually deliberate that Gwenaëlle stretches out on the sofa she's claimed with her wine, watching as the seamstress's maids lay out fabrics for her to consider; she's a physical sort of person, and contemplative body language is not limited to the tilts of her head or the fidget of her fingers around her wine-glass. She bends her knee up and swings her other foot over the top of it, tilting her glass absently—

“It's foolishness on their part. If they'd simply considered you when considering your future, there was at least the possibility of finding you a suitable husband you could have come to a pleasant mutual agreement with. I mean, I speak as someone who spent all of my courtships methodically sabotaging them to the point of being infamous for it, so I don't mean to say that obviously marriage is an easy solution—” a grimace, “—and obviously that's not what I did at all, in the end.”

Thranduil is nobody's idea of a suitable husband. Least of all in Orlais.

“But a marriage clearly isn't anathema to you. If they'd bent a little, you might not have had to break anything.” Stoutly, she adds, “Serves them right you did. There's freedom in it, you know.” The tilt of her mouth is sly as she lifts her glass: “To be bold. —yes, I'd like to see that one in a green, please.”
indissection: (140)

[personal profile] indissection 2019-11-04 11:17 pm (UTC)(link)
It doesn't stop Sidony's eyes drinking her in, almost hiccuping over the shape of her body. She has so few female friends - less so, now that she has ruined her prospects with a quick and deadly marriage - that she has not had much in the means of measuring her own attraction. It means that she almost struggles to draw her eyes away from the shape of Gwenaëlle's hips, her arms, the curve of a shoulder - all silly things she had been taught to trick and trap men.

She's falling for all her mother's ploys herself. What a marvellous twist of fate.

"That was never a consideration," she complains, dragging her eyes away and lifting herself up to look for some rich fabrics. Reds, or purples, or golds, she thinks idly. "My mother wished for more power in Nevarran politics and my father was content to allow her to do it. Octavian might have cared once, but he became a Mortalitasi and left me to their mercy. That is simply the path that was paved for me, left for me to muster. Byerly is a more than happy future for me."

A protective barrier, a beacon, a friend. It's more than she could have ever hoped for.

"I think I am bold enough for anyone," a soft smirk colours her lips, "and Byerly is a wonderful match for me. I do not think I could possibly have been happier in my nuptials."