of-rabbits-and-demons-blog

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Man I could totally make a Jim account and be my own FC HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE probably pretty lame but I'm still considering it.

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Do you see that look that is the look of pure defiance. A TRUE DELINQUENT. So no. :P

Me right now.

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Me right now.

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((So bored it's painful.))

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Bonus points for exactly what.

Send me a ╰☆╮ if your muse thinks my muse is attractive

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Send "Little thing" and my character will tell you something as a child.

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Describe my blog in terms of "came for the _____, stayed for the _____"

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This is the week of all art and no sleep. I already feel like death.

[of-rabbits-and-demons-blog]

Reblog if you value OOC communication.

With your RP partner(s), your guildmate(s), or even acquaintances in random RP/scenes you’ve never met before! You prefer to talk OOC to establish a dialogue, a conversation, and who knows? Maybe even friendship and adventures!

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what kind of lover do you think my character would be?

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She rolled her eyes again. Big and arrogant, how novel. Of course he would think the Dragonborn would be a man, and probably not an elf. Funny how these things worked out. She smirked, appearing to obey him as she slowly walked over to the door to the room she knew her stuff was in.  She disappeared for a few moments, dressed once again in her armour, a battle axe strapped to her back and a bow in her hand. And once again, she stepped forward, looking the large man in the eyes.  "You want the Dragonborn? I'm right here."

Have Fun Storming The Embassy

Alsephona rolled her eyes. Was this man serious? 

"What do you want with the Dragonborn?” she asked, stepping forward and crossing her arms. Sure, she could probably have easily ran away, but having the murder of the entire embassy on her head didn’t really seem like much fun. 

[of-rabbits-and-demons-blog]

YES PERFECT.

of-rabbits-and-demons replied to your post:✺

((Yep. It is xD I just thought it’d be funny to imagine tiny Alice hitting massive giant guy))

Enjoy this illustration:

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Alsephona rolled her eyes. Was this man serious?  "What do you want with the Dragonborn?" she asked, stepping forward and crossing her arms. Sure, she could probably have easily ran away, but having the murder of the entire embassy on her head didn't really seem like much fun. 

Have Fun Storming The Embassy

Ruber continued inspecting each person. He stopped before Ondolemar and tilted the elf’s chin up with a little bit of a smirk before moving on. “No, no… not that one. Kill him,” he ordered casually. One of the Reachmen plunged his primitive knife into the Justiciar’s throat.

"I am looking for the one they call Dragonborn," he said, tapping his toe against the stone floor. "I know he is here, and if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll step forward before I slaughter you all."

The traitor turned a few times, glancing around at the guests. “Well?” he boomed after a long period of silence.

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// LOUD ANGRY REMINDER I WANT TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR REACTIONS TO MY THREADS AND WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT HOW CHARACTERS INTERACT AND WHAT MY FOLLOWERS ARE WANTING TO HAPPEN OR STUFF AND IF YOU COME INTO MY ASK BOX TO TELL ME THERE IS A 34088% CHANCE I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER

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While everyone was distracted, this would be as good a time as any to go retrieve her weapons. But now Elenwen stood at her side, and she was pretty much stuck for now. Damn. She just watched as the man looked around, her face expressionless. Looking for someone? Who could he possibly be looking for?  All she could think about was how easy it would be to take him down, and her attention shifted from him to search for anything that could possibly serve as a weapon. The best thing she could find was a particularly large shard of glass, which, even if it wasn't halfway across the room, would only be about as effective as a dagger. Against Orcish armour? That'd be a death wish. 

Have Fun Storming The Embassy

"Good evening," the man mused, picking up a flute of champagne as he passed a trembling servant. Elenwen was the only other person who didn’t panic, and stood quite close to Alsephona, her brows twitching in anger. The Forsworn that swarmed the room had quickly taken care of her guards and one had Ondolemar on his knees, incapacitated.

"What is the meaning of this?! Explain yourself!" the altmer woman demanded, fists tight at her side.

The man paused before removing his helmet with one hand and shaking his hair out—a hard brow, thin face, and bowed lips. Obviously an Imperial. “No need t’ get so upset, Elenwen. I’m here on—” He paused to take a drink from the champagne flute, “—friendly business.”

"Nonsense! You killed my guards, you filthy creature," she hissed.

"That’s Sir Ruber. I’m looking for someone…” He began to stroll around the room idly, looking every guest over.

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The girl was still trying to wrap her head around this whole 'dragonborn' thing. It was just a legend, wasn't it? It couldn't possibly real. And besides, if the dragonborn was a Nord story, why wasn't the actual person a Nord, too? This didn't make any sense. And being at this party certainly wasn't making her feel any better. The last time she had seen the inside of this building, she had been with her family. The memories washing over her mind were certainly unwelcome, she needed to focus on her mission.  Her thoughts were interrupted, though, by the sound of someone at least trying to destroy the building. And while everyone else seemed to be panic-stricken, running around like chickens with their heads cut off, Alsephona stayed calm. She didn't run, she didn't even really move. She just stood up, momentarily forgetting that her weapons were all in a chest in the other room, prepared to take down whatever it was that was attacking. From the looks of it, all the fire... It seemed like it would be a dragon. She could handle a dragon, no problem.  ...But it wasn't a dragon.  "Oh, you've go to be kidding..."

Have Fun Storming The Embassy

The Blades were not the only ones looking for the Dragonborn—beyond the hills of Markarth, camps of Forsworn joined the ranks of ex-Legate Ruber’s horde. Though the man was an Imperial, his silver tongue had saved him from the fate of the Nords who wandered into the mountains. The Witchmen of High Rock had accepted him as one of their own. Their goal—use the division of Skyrim as leverage and take the throne.

The Dragonborn was just the edge Ruber had been looking for, and he planned to find this freak before the Thalmor or the Blades. Night descended upon the Embassy and the party dragged on, tedious and formal.

The Bosmer flutist began a new song, a battle song—like a swan, she played with all her breath behind each note. A loud thud sounded outside of the stone building, and then the chink of steel; shouts. Windows were kicked in and fire raged. A man decked in a full set of Orcish armor entered—his helmet, horned, and his mace almost as long as his leg.

"Knock, knock."

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Have Fun Storming The Embassy

This party would be easy enough to sneak into. It wasn't as if she'd never been to an embassy party before, they had them every year, and every year her family had been invited. The difficult part would be navigating the rest of the building. Even she had never been outside of the main hall...  She sighed, tugging at the sleeve of her rather uncomfortable party clothes (she had never liked dressing up like this, she would much rather wear something simple) and headed up to the entrance, invitation in hand.  Once inside, she went straight to get herself a drink, then sat down to scope out the room. The altmer girl didn't speak to anyone, nor did she make eye contact with anyone. She had to focus on making this work...