withmeinparadise: all icons <user name="crestfallen"> (Default)
sam(uel) drake. ([personal profile] withmeinparadise) wrote in [community profile] faderift2021-08-02 02:36 pm

open.

WHO: sam drake, beth greene, laura kint, & YOU
WHAT: open post to try and get back into the groove. starters in comments, hmu for something custom.
WHEN: post-modplot, generally in august
WHERE: the gallows, kirkwall
NOTES: tbd






nonvenomous: (thot peepers)

alleyway

[personal profile] nonvenomous 2021-08-19 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
The crime, in this case, was simple burglary at the back entry to an inn -- the prybar he’d swung over her head rattled to a late stop in a puddle, ozone still sharp in the air where tendrils of electricity had seared green from his fingertips. His glove on that side is still smoking, one finger scorched bare through blackened leather, poking like exposed bone.

The witness is a cat, dark, leggy, lean, and familiar, her shadow thrown long down the alley’s throat by the slant of a tavern’s light far behind her. Her eyes are wide and her ears are pinned flat.

The thief is also leggy and lean, laid out still at Laura’s feet in a hooded cloak and thieves' leathers. A scarf tied over his nose obscures his identity, but there is something familiar too about the creep of his particular stink from beneath the gap of his collar, the hole in his glove. Red wine twists acrid on his breath and in his sweat, elfroot smoke baked into the cloth of his tunic and the leather of his armor.

Rarely social outside of the occasional card game, Mister Dickerson has been a fixture of Riftwatch for nearly two years.