#oc: rexus leventis

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

My favorite thing about that “reblog with your favorite oc of mine” post is that just like everyone in-universe who loves him, y’all love Rexus, but absolutely NONE OF YOU are happy about it.

[thereluctantinquisitor]

Haha okay back at you with the Rex and Cyrus prompts, but you get “this isn’t even close to the worst thing I’ve done” :D

“So… you always this messy after a night out, Orlais, or am I just lucky?”

Cyrus grunted, slumped forward on the tavern table, a half-finished flagon of ale still clutched tight in one hand. “I’m not even drunk, dick,” he muttered, sliding the drink towards him but not quite mustering the energy to lift his head. “Maybe if you hadn’t kept me up all fucking night, I’d be a bit more lively.”

Rexus’ laugh seemed ear-splittingly loud, but that might have just been because Cyrus had been lingering in a constant haze inebriation since he’d met the man. He’d been on drunken benders before, but this was probably the longest. “You say that like you didn’t love every minute of it.” Leaning back in his seat, an infuriating smirk on his face, Rexus was about as punchable as they came. Cyrus couldn’t help but wonder how his handsome face had made it so long and remained intact. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I recall a certain Orlesian on his knees begging for–”

– “Maker’s ass - would you shut up.” Cyrus sat up and glanced around, grateful that they were in a relatively quiet corner of the tavern. Leaning in, the glare he fixed on Rexus was ice-cold. “You don’t need to tell the entire fucking Free Marches.”

Languid, lazy, pleased. All three words could easily be used to describe Rexus in that moment. As he plucked a grape from the platter on the table and popped it into his mouth, he never wavered beneath Cyrus’ glower. “So prickly,” he mused, arching a dark brow. “You wouldn’t be ashamed, would you?”

Bristling for a second, Cyrus eventually huffed and rolled his eyes. “No more than usual.” He raised his flagon to his lips. “This isn’t even close to the worst thing I’ve done.”

“Such high praise. I’m flattered.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” 

Grabbing at the grapes, Cyrus roughly twisted one off and shoved it into his mouth, chewing like it had personally wronged him. There was no missing the amused gleam in Rexus’ eyes as he watched. “Well I’m curious now… what’s the worst thing you’ve done?”

Cyrus swallowed, regarding Rexus for a time in an attempt to read the man’s intentions. Eventually, his gaze slid away and he shrugged stiffly. “Killed a man.”

Rexus blinked, but that was the extent of the break in his composure. “Really?” He gave Cyrus a quick once-over, the silent act speaking volumes. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Shrugging again, the Orleisan took another deep drink from his flagon, swallowing two - three - times before lowering it with a thud. “Didn’t meant to do it,” he replied simply. 

Silence stretched. When Cyrus didn’t break it, Rexus did.

“Well, I hope you’re not planning to make a habit of it. I’d hate to have to give you a pat-down every time we meet.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

Rexus smirked. “True.”

Shaking his head, Cyrus returned to the crux of the conversation. “As for making it a habit… that depends. You planning to kill me?” 

“Who me?” Spreading his hands, blinking exaggeratedly, Rexus looked about as innocent as an arsonist with a lit match. “Kill a pretty thing like you? Of course not.” He paused, relishing Cyrus’ glower, before cocking his head slightly and adding, “Not unless you gave me reason to, that is.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Cyrus, who just snorted and went for another grape. He paused with it held between his fingertips, hovering over the platter between them. “What about you, then? Go on. Worst thing you’ve ever done. Fair’s fair.”

Chuckling, Rexus hummed and leaned forward. In a smooth, sharp motion, he plucked the grape from between Cyrus’ fingers and slipped it into his mouth.

“Please, Cyrus. You know I don’t play fair.”

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

Dragon Age: *Disgusted Noise*

A collection of the ways my ocs immediately exasperate Cassandra.

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

Reason #2937372838 Rexus would be a terrible Inquisitor:

Cassandra would have killed him long before they got anywhere near the temple.

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

🍉🍪🍷🍻 for Silvah! And 🎂🍹🍟🍕 for my favourite scoundrel.

Silver

🍉 : Does your OC have a particular piece of jewellery that they always wear or refuse to part with?

He would tell you that he’s already such a work of art - no, a masterpiece - in his own right, and he doesn’t need any more decoration, but that’s only like...85% true.  He does own and wear jewelry, mostly stuff that goes on his hands like this, or this; he just says he doesn’t need it so his patrons stop giving him so much.  It usually ends up getting sent south with refugees so they can sell it, and Silver tells the patron who gave it to him that he’s having it cleaned, but he feels absolutely naked without it.  The only piece of jewelry that he actually can’t stand to be without is a small silver claw ring that fits on his thumb, like the one Lestat wears, that he similarly uses to draw blood - only a finger prick, though, since he can’t stand the sight of much more - should he need to.

🍪: What is something that’s sentimental to you OC?

His sister, though his relationship with her is not quite what he’d imagined having a sibling would be like. By the time of the Conclave, they’ve only known each other as siblings for about four or five years; before that, they knew each other only peripherally through Aularia and Rexus, both of whom are believed dead after the events of The Swim Upstream. It took a hot minute for her to understand and warm up to the idea of him as her brother, but ultimately neither of them would have had adequate support (or any at all, in Silver’s case) through a time of terrible grief without the other and they grew close because of it.  She drives him absolutely batshit insane, of course, but he treasures her, the letters she diligently writes, the large, warm crocheted wrap she made for him so he wouldn’t be cold when he visits, the way she calls him ‘Adi’ (short for his real name, Adrian), all her little gestures of acceptance and concern…he’s figured out that’s how she shows love, and it means the world to him.

🍷 : What’s one of your OC’s pet peeves concerning food?

Being able to see it after it’s entered someone else’s mouth. It makes him want to throw up, and drawing attention to how squeamish he is is one of the worst ways someone could insult him.

🍻 : What’s your OC’s favourite comfort ritual? How do they calm themselves down after a rough day?

Silver’s philosophy when dealing with stress, either his or anyone else’s, is “why don’t you go sit in water for a while and maybe you’ll calm down”. For himself at least, he’s always right: a nice bath or a swim will have him calm and centered in no time, though he’ll probably stay there for hours whether he needs to or not.  Notably, he also doesn’t necessarily want to be left alone the whole time, and will welcome company that isn’t the reason he needs to calm down in the first place.

Rexus

🎂 : Has your OC have any contradictory interests or traits to the first preception people have of the? How do they surprise people?

I mean, he kind of prides himself on outwardly being just as rude, crude, and socially unacceptable as people initially perceive him to be, and sometimes that in itself can be surprising.  Like...he can’t really be that awful, right??  WRONG.  Well, sometimes.  Sometimes he’s surprisingly human.  

🍹 : Does your OC have any funny anecdotes told about them?

Oh, you know he does.  He encourages it, actually.  He’s a big fan of things getting around to his father that embarrass him and tarnish his family’s reputation.  A lot of things people would tell others about him like “you wouldn’t BELIEVE the reprehensible thing this absolute motherfucker did” are things he considers “funny anecdotes” about him.  The only stories about him he doesn’t revel in are the ones where he’s subjugated in some way.  He’ll still own them, but only to reverse that point of the story; acting like he doesn’t care takes that power away from whoever was trying to subjugate him, and their offense at that idea makes it even better.  

Silver likes to tell stories of taking petty revenge on Rexus, though not in his presence so as to maintain the shaky illusion that the reason Rexus can’t seem to fit in some of his clothes or in certain chairs as well as he used to is because he’s somehow growing larger relative to the Oasis itself, or that age, idleness, and relative plenty compared to before Silver brought him back to Minrathous has caused him to gain considerable weight, and not because Silver surreptitiously took his clothes out of the wash and had them altered to be just slightly smaller, or replaced his furniture with identical but slightly smaller versions.  Even though watching Rexus try to spin such a thing to where he wasn’t actually falling for anyone’s tricks and was, in fact, onto him the whole time is incredibly amusing.

🍟 : What does your OC admit to be their guilty pleasure? What actually is their guilty pleasure?

He says that there’s no pleasure he wouldn’t admit to, but just you try getting him to admit how much Crusty McDirtball here agrees with Silver that sitting in hot soapy water that smells good for a while is a miracle cure for literally any foul mood whatsoever.  Or that snuggling someone is actually pretty nice.

🍕 : How does an OC spend a lazy day?

He’s a lazy guy, so almost all of his days are lazy.  Sleeping, drinking, bothering people, that sort of thing.  

Got any more?

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

Action beans!

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

This is going to show up in The Swim Upstream eventually but I want to yell about it now, and I am home with COVID for the time being so get used to this kind of bullshit:

Emma’s not the most creative person in a lying or storytelling or artsy way, but she absolutely is creative with her applications of her magic. Such as, say, manipulating the gravity around an object to make it seem much heavier than it is, which she will do to ensure that if someone gets to it before she does, they won’t be able to take it. This is especially useful in her work pre-Inquisition as a field research associate for an adjunct university professor, in which she and Lux retrieve artifacts from dangerous places before the Chantry or plunderers can get their hands on it.

It’s also useful with known sticky-fingered lying rogue bastards like Rexus, with the added bonus of having an entire room of people watch him try way too hard to lift a coin or a tankard or a letter only for her to take said object with ease a moment later. Think Sword In The Stone or the Avengers trying to lift Mjolnir or something. He looks that kind of ridiculous every. time.

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

Grab a drink.

Nobody asked, but this is my blog and I’ll post bullshit if I want, so get ready to learn what my OCs order at the bar:

Tasalin: Jack and Coke.

Eren: Water, usually, but he likes a good old fashioned plain old everyday Beer(TM) every now and then.

Emma: Vodka, neat, with an egg in it.

Lux: Bourbon on the rocks, which he thinks will make him look cool but he inevitably hates, and ends up either ready to go home or sipping on Sprite and grenadine instead.

Rexus: Any brown liquor, straight from the bottle. Any. Brown. Liquor.

Silver: He’s got a long rotation he can go through for whatever he deems appropriate, but it usually ends up being mojitos, some kind of martini, or mint juleps.

Sala: has smuggled in a bottle of homemade liquor from a recipe he’s never tried before that he hasn’t bothered tasting yet.

Túlio: Depends on who’s around; whatever he thinks he needs to drink to interest whoever he wants to interest. If he’s alone? Vodka and cranberry juice.

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

-=Rexus Leventis=-

“It’s called ‘a disguise’, yes?  You’d be surprised how easy it is to hide in plain sight behind a bit of extra hair and a beard.”

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

Happy Dragon Age Day! :D

Please enjoy one (1) screenshot of each of my beloved kiddos, which I may or may not have already posted but am entirely too lazy to check!  

This fandom never fails to impress with the thought and creativity that goes into the ocs we make, and it’s an absolute joy to be able to see the fruits of your hard work.  Thanks to Bioware for Dragon Age, and to all of you for sharing the ways you’ve made it yours.  <3

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

‘we’re not rivals, it’s not poetic, it’s just a drink.’ for our trash boys Rex and Cyrus (idk it just made me think of them haha)

This has been sitting in my inbox for almost two years I am so sorry 😬

——

It took only a single look at the poor bastard, sprawled out over the bed in abject exhaustion, breathing heavily with his mouth wide open, for Rexus to know definitively what must be done.

He lifted a handful of olives from a pouch on his belt, popped one into his mouth, and launched another across the room, where it instead bounced off of Cyrus’s forehead.

Shit.  

Rexus froze.  The man stirred, grunting and shifting around, but didn’t wake, and Rexus had no sooner relaxed than he readied another projectile.  The tip of his tongue slipped out the side of his mouth as he concentrated hard on his target, rocking his harm forward and back again a few times before he let it go.

Closer this time, but the olive hit his upper teeth and settled onto his chest, instead.  Clearly less than ideal, since not only was he down to his last olive, but the disturbance had caused Cyrus to close his mouth completely.  Ah, well.  He did need the man conscious if things were to go as planned, he supposed.  He raised his arm one more time, and threw the final olive as hard as he could at Cyrus’s face.

The sound he made as he jolted awake alone was worth the effort.

Rexus snickered to himself, and chewed on his fingernails while watching the man scramble out of the bed and hunt fruitlessly for something he could use as a weapon.

“Oh, relax, will you?  It’s only me.”

There was a pang of recognition in the way Cyrus just...stopped.  Rexus had found his half-hearted disguise of simply not shaving his face or trimming his hair quite effective since adopting it, but it seemed there was no mistaking his voice.  It was almost flattering, really.  Still somewhat groggy, Cyrus blinked hard a few times, and rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes with the heels of his palms, leaving behind a mix of an almost hopeful disbelief and seething, unadulterated rage that the former would not, in fact, hold water.

“I..wh...WHAT?!?” Cyrus finally blurted out, his voice rising an amusing octave or so as he threw his arms out to the sides.  “What the fuck???” 

Rexus beamed, and braved the Orlesian’s confused anger to pull him into a strong hug, and slapped him hard on his back a few times.  "And I am positively thrilled to see you, too!”  

Amid muffled, profanity-laden protest, Cyrus fumbled for a good spot for his hands to push, hard, sending Rexus staggering backward, and held the space between them with an angry, pointed finger.  

“I have NEVER been thrilled to see you!”  

Kaffas, but he was a terrible liar.  

“What an incredibly rude thing to say, Guillaume."

“Cyrus.”  

Every.  Time.

“Of course, that’s what I said.”

If Cyrus rolled his eyes any harder, they’d have threatened to roll right out through his mouth.  A rough downward shake of his hands followed, as if trying to rid himself of Rexus’ hug residue, often the last thing he did before saying precisely what he was about to say.  

“Why are you even here?  I told you last time I never wanted to see your fucking face again.”  

Rexus folded his arms in front of him, and tapped a terribly unconvincingly pensive finger against his chin.  “Did you?”  

He had.  And the time before.  And the time before that.  The last several times, actually, now that he thought about it.  Cyrus caught the knowing glint in his eyes, apparently, if the clench in his jaw and the audible squeezing of his fists were any indication.  Watching the muscles in his arms tense and one fist slowly start to raise, Rexus scoffed and raised his own, half in anticipatory defense and half to give the appearance of simply shrugging him off.

“Now, now...” he said, and took a step forward.  Closing the distance wouldn’t be that easy, as Cyrus’s eyes grew rounder and rounder, his fist somehow able to ball even tighter and pull backwards like an archer nocking an arrow.  His whole posture wafted a distinct sense of I’ll do it, I mean it!, and Rexus...Rexus was already bored.     

He took another step, and Cyrus made good on his silent threats, though the rush was beginning to wear off now.  Rexus dodged the sleep-addled swing easily, and pressed a flat palm against the air between them when he raised it again.  “No, none of that.”  Evidently speaking to him like he was some sort of child did little to assuage his aggression, and Rexus skipped backwards with both of his hands raised in front of him, now fully on the defenssive.  “That’s all ancient history by now, yes?  Let’s just...go downstairs for a bit, have a drink, and maybe you’ll feel better.” 

Truthfully, Cyrus should have expected him to say something like that, but his face scrunched into that distinctively unattractive mess of an are you fucking kidding me? look.  The same one being able to accurately predict had won Rexus several lucrative bets.  At least the disbelief returned to the forefront, and his fists slowly began to relax and lower.  One of his hands found its way to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose the way he always did before asking Rexus a question to which he undoubtedly already knew the answer.  

"You...broke into my room, in the middle of the night...to get a drink??”

Rexus laid one hand over a low chuckle, as though it would do any better at keeping it in his mouth than his teeth.  “Honestly, would that really surprise you?”  It was a rather tame accusation, if he was being perfectly honest.  Also, partly untrue; Rexus would gladly admit his alleged deeds if he’d actually done them - well, no, even that wasn’t always true - but he would rise from the dead out of sheer indignance to defend himself from decidedly false ones.  

“And I didn’t break in; I was already here.”

Cyrus stared at him like he was as crazy as that sounded, now that he heard it out loud.  

“What?”

“Innkeeper here is a bit, uh...” Rexus twirled his finger next to his head and whistled, crossing his eyes.  “Nuts.  Forgot he already rented this room, apparently.  I suppose that means it was you, in fact, who broke into my room.” 

Clearly, the finger and the whistle hadn’t had the desired effect, as Cyrus continued staring blankly after he finished, long enough to make Rexus wonder if perhaps he hadn’t finally broken the poor man.

“Bullshit,” he spat. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”  He flattened his hand over his pocket, with, Rexus noted with great amusement, a momentary widening of his eyes - begging whichever divine being would listen that whatever he expected to be there would be there.  It was, and he produced a small iron key, waving it triumphantly in front of him.  “I have a key, you idiot.”

“Oh, dear...” Rexus gasped, and slowly dragged the hand that covered it from his mouth to his pocket, where, after several unsuccessful attempts and a few undignified grunts, produced a key of his own.  “So do I.”  He pointed to a ratty canvas rucksack, haphazardly tossed in front of the nightstand on the side of the bed opposite the door.  “That’s my pack, there.”  

If Cyrus believed even a sliver of that, his face was no indication.  It never was, though, and he always did.  Rexus, assuming that look was meant to convince him he wasn’t convinced, simply shrugged, slowly pacing around the room.  “I was just minding my own business like a good boy when you staggered in, fell over, and passed out on the bed before I even had time to turn around.  I must’ve stood in that corner for ages before I said to myself, ‘Rexus, this...is a sign.’”  He leaned against the bedpost, waggling his eyebrows.  “I’ll assume you remember the rest.”

“Like the Void.” 

So much for being convincing, he supposed.  Not that he’d expected to be.  He had expected Cyrus to stay angry, but...perhaps it had just been that long since he’d seen him, but the tense creases in his brow when he looked at him like that weren’t the same.  They didn’t irresistibly beg to be traced into funny little pictures as they tensed even further at the audacity it took to draw trees on his forehead when he was angry.  This time, it was just that, just...angry.  And it stayed angry.  

“That’s...this is ridiculous,” Cyrus finally barked.  “You want a drink so bad, you go yourself.  Do whatever you want.  The only place I’m going right now is back to bed.”  With the kind of resolve one has spent years mastering and even more years waiting for a chance to use it, he turned to do exactly that, but, perhaps realizing he’d left himself open for it, faced Rexus again a split second later, pointing a taut finger.  “That wasn’t an invitation.”

Rexus snickered to himself, but found himself forced to do it.  Even after all this time, some things just...would never change.  The thought tasted bitter in his mouth, that Cyrus would just be relegated to the pile of people who would always be angry with him, even more so because none of them, especially not him, ended up there without cause.  More still because only a few short years ago, he’d have shrugged this off without it lingering in his mind in the slightest.  Whether that was out of frustration that it lingered now or regret that it hadn’t before, he couldn’t say, which was perhaps worst of all.

Of course, Rexus was telling the truth this time, but what had he ever done before that would have Cyrus believe him now?  Nothing, that’s what.  Nothing, and he would go on not believing him until the sun burnt itself out unless Rexus did something very, very unlike himself, very quickly.  

He breathed out a long sigh, adjusted his belt, and tented his fingers in front of his chest to signify that this time, he was serious.

"All right, I didn’t want to have to do this, but...” he began, and drew in another deep breath, which would have been exaggerated if he hadn’t actually needed it this time.  “Look.  Cyrus.  I’m going to be perfectly honest with you.  I wasn’t expecting to run into you here any more than you would’ve expected to see me, but...I’m glad.  It’s been a long time, and I am glad to see you.  Truly.  You and I?  We’re not rivals.  It’s not ‘poetic’.  It’s just a drink.  No hidden motives, no jobs, no roping you into anything else, just...a drink.  With a friend.  That’s all.”  

Cyrus stood sort of limp beside the bed.  His head hung somewhat to the side, lazily wandering back and forth, like he was far too exhausted to properly shake his head no.  Or, perhaps, because he didn’t really want to.  Rexus could hope.  

“Besides, in all fairness, I paid for that bed first, and at some point I’m going to need to sleep myself.  Do you truly want to be in my bed when that happens, or would you rather have the chance to be in a different one?”

Now, Cyrus could shake his head just fine.  And maybe, just maybe, with a hint of a smile.

“Fine.  Just a drink.”  

For now, that would do.  Rexus smiled, probably the kindest smile he’d ever given him, and offered his hand.  Not without some lingering reluctance, Cyrus shook it, and Rexus gestured for him to lead the way.

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

i couldn't decide between ❝if you shut up people might actually think you’re smart.❞ and ❝you could’ve died, you know?❞ for Rex, so you have a choice!

Like you don’t know which one I’m going to pick :P

Rexus, Alba, and Silver are mine, Longinus and Eli belong to @lavellanlove

——

The question hung in Alba’s throat as she stared, somehow simultaneously transfixed and entirely bewildered by the sight of a grown man stood atop a concerningly wobbly chair, straining with all his might to shove another smaller chair through a hole in the ceiling. Though hardly in the habit of asking questions to which she already knew the answer, this was...strange, even for him.

“Rexus,” she sighed, tucking her cane under one arm while rubbing circles around her temples with her fingers, “do I...want...to know what it is exactly you’re doing right now?”

It may as well have happened in slow motion.  Startled by her voice, Rexus shifted his weight a bit too far to one side for the chair to bear, and chairs and man crashed unceremoniously to the ground, followed by what she could only assume was muffled cursing. When he finally got to his feet, scowling through an unruly mess of loose black curls, Alba didn’t even try to hide her snickering.

“Still floating in uninvited like the demon you are, I see,” Rexus growled, aggressively slapping the dust from his clothes in her direction.

“Good to know I can always expect such a warm welcome from the man I am so generously allowing to live under my roof even as he shirks his promised duties and...” her voice trailed off into only sharp taps of her cane on the floorboards as she moved closer to the hole in the ceiling, staring with a curled lip into the darkness, “destroys my property, apparently.”

“Silver lets me live here,” Rexus retorted, of course, because recognizing that despite holding more sway over her than she’d like to admit, Silver still worked for her remained beyond him.

Tightening her grip on the head of her cane and forcing out her best smile that didn’t want to be a smile at all, Alba tilted her head coyly to one side and muttered a soft, “For now.”

Rexus, however, was already ignoring her, instead scratching his beard and staring off elsewhere, as if he’d forgotten she was there entirely until he happened to look in her direction again. The scratching stopped, and his face curled and scrunched into a look of exasperated offense, silently screaming something along the lines of “excuse me?!”. Somehow, Alba managed to clench her jaw against everything telling her to make absolutely sure the entire Oasis knew she was cross with him, and only widened her eyes as round as she could while raising a stiff hand into the air. Equally a gesture towards the subject of her question as it was a threat; if he had a mind to continue being cheeky, she’d be more than happy to spare him her cane and simply smack the shit-eating grin off of his face.

Rexus righted the sturdier chair and hoisted the other one onto his shoulders.

“Just...” he grunted, letting out a tiny whoop sound couched between more strained grunts as he managed to hoist himself up onto the chair again, “having a little fun with the kid.”

The kid? Thinking for a moment that he meant the newest and youngest of her courtesans, Alba’s hand tightened around her cane again, as she’d been certain to let him know not to even think about it the moment he’d arrived, she soon realized he meant another kid entirely. One that made the amount of work he put into this nonsense quite a bit more entertaining.

The madam tilted her head back with a knowing smirk.  “Longinus’s boy? The one whose neck you were raving about wringing the other day when he threw beets in the wash with your linens?”

Rexus scoffed.  “I’m almost certain that last one was actually Sil, or at least Sil’s idea.”  He adjusted the chair against the hole, and tried pushing again.  “But yes, that boy.”

“Is this...fun...of yours going to require the guards to keep the boy’s father - an exceptionally kind and patient man and one of my best courtesans - from killing you afterwards?”

Alba winced at the piercing, high-pitched giggle Rexus emitted at the idea, which she noted was decidedly not a no.  

“Look,” Rexus began, and finally managed to push the chair the rest of the way into the attic with another adjustment to the angle and a good, strong heave.  “Kid just wants to mess with his tutor a little.  I’d like him to get a taste for messing with someone else for a change, and I also happen to have a fair bit of experience with messing with tutors, so I offered to help.”

“By...putting a chair in the attic?”

“No, no, no - well, yes, but you aren’t letting me finish.”  He reached up to grip the sides of the hole, and lifted himself up to wiggle his way through into the attic.  Alba rolled her eyes.  

“Sounds like a personal problem, Rexus.”

His head emerged from the attic, twisting this way and that until he oriented himself enough to point a sharp glare in her direction.

“Well, you ought to know, at your age.”  Reaching an arm down, he pointed a finger towards her, but not at her.  Something near her, perhaps.  “Hand me that, would you?”

When she didn’t move, it was his turn to roll his eyes, and continued flailing his arm towards whatever it was he wanted her to find.  “That.  The...the thing, right there, the...” - he snapped his fingers a few times - “the powder can?  Right behind you??”

Alba retrieved the can in question, peering through the small opening in the top to examine the contents.  A fine, soft, brownish-grey powder, no readily detectable odor, but she wasn’t about to go trying to find one.  Nor was she about to taste it, but to her dismay found her curiosity sufficiently piqued.

“So you’re planning to...what, entice the tutor into the attic and then cover him in completely innocuous powder?”

Rexus had disappeared back into the ceiling, and thrust down an impatient, demanding hand.  “Give it.”  

Reluctantly, Alba obliged, and raised an eyebrow at the self-satisfied snickering emanating from above.  His masterpiece apparently completed, Rexus dropped through the hole a moment later, wobbling through the landing, powder can in hand.  

Alba raised her eyebrows.  “That hardly seems worth of such a smug expression, Rexus.”

“Hm?”

Of course he wasn’t listening.  He was fitting what she supposed was meant to be a door over the hole, which she supposed was at least somewhat more considerate than she’d expected of him.  

“Your master plan.  For a self-professed genius where pranking tutors is concerned, this all seems quite a bit less than impressive.”

“HA!” Rexus snorted, and hopped off the chair.  “Such little faith, dear Alba.  This being your property and all, you must realize that the storage closet in the next room - the kid’s room - has a little door in the ceiling that leads right. up. there.”  

She nodded.  

“Right.  So, he goes to get something, but never comes back.  What could possibly have happened to him?”  He inhaled an exaggerated gasp, and pointed a finger towards the ceiling, waggling it in cadence with his eyebrows.  “Then, once the tutor is sufficiently terrified he’s lost the child and runs for help before his father finds out, he simply crawls back down, gets back to his studies like he’d never left, tutor and anyone he brings back with him doubt his sanity, child is entertained at the expense of someone who is not me, everyone’s happy.”

It pained her to admit it, but despite being so very typically Rexus, it...wasn’t actually a bad plan.  No one would be injured, no messes to clean, no stains for the laundry staff to invent new detergents in order to remove...perhaps it was less typically Rexus than she’d thought.  

“And you felt the need to make a new door straight into the middle of your room because...?”

The room fell uncharacteristically silent for a moment, Rexus’s ordinarily plentiful words stalled as his bottom lip caught under his teeth.

“Ah, well...” he stammered, scratching at the back of his head.  “So there’s another way out, right?  His door could get stuck, or if something else happens and he needs to come find me.  You know.”

She knew, and that was definitely not typically Rexus.  Considering someone other than himself?  She’d have been a fool to expect it - was such a fool for years, before Silver found him in some dive bar in the Free Marches and dragged him back to Minrathous.  An act of utter naivete, she’d said, believing the wretched scoundrel could ever become anything but a wretched scoundrel.  Yet, here he was, risking his precious privacy and leaving himself open to all manner of practical jokes he’d cursed that very child over plenty of times before because he remembered sounds of fists pounding on doors amid Longinus’s frantic pleas and muffled crying through the wall between his room and the child’s closet.  Regardless of his willingness to admit any of this, if this sort of thing was to be the new typically Rexus, well...Alba supposed she could live with that.  

“You know, if you’d shut up every once in a while, people might actually think you’re smart.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, “I take special care to ensure I never, ever do that. Do you honestly think I could get away with half the shit I get away with if everyone -yourself included, don’t lie for my sake- wasn’t absolutely certain I’m a blithering idiot?”

He was certainly not wrong, which was more than a little disturbing.  

“Well, you needn’t worry too much, once they realize your greatest rival is a twelve year old child.”

“He’s eleven, and he’s a menace.”

“He’s twelve, but I am pleased you have finally settled your differences amicably.  Though,” she picked up the powder can, and held it up beside her head, “I still don’t understand what this is for.”

A much more familiar spark grew in his eyes as he took the can and sprinkled some on the floor, slipped his foot into a nearby boot, and pressed his foot on top of it.  Unsure what he could possibly be so proud of himself about, Alba raised an eyebrow, but the smell hit her before she could ask.  A horrid sulfurous stench, and her hand flew to her face to hide her grimacing, her eyes searching his for answers.

Now sporting a particularly ridiculous grin and appearing perfectly content with the rancid odor now permeating his room, Rexus was more than happy to provide them.  “Well, I can’t very well just let him believe he’s beaten me, now, can I?”  

Typically fucking Rexus.

“I put it on the chair.  Anywhere he goes for the rest of the day, everyone’s going to be searching for who loosed such a foul smell upon them, and all evidence will point directly to him.”

Alba shook her head, and didn’t stop until she was well down the hallway.

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

For ma boi Rexus: 🍒📙😊

🍒 What kind of things do they expect from their relationships? Does this differ between platonic relationships and romantic ones? Is your OC “demanding” or a door mat? What kinds of things do people expect from them in a relationship?

Honestly? Before his more or less self-imposed exile from Tevinter, Rexus prefers relationships to last as long as the other person has something he wants or needs and no longer, and with minimal effort on his part. This mostly doesn’t change between romantic and platonic relationships, either, though he prefers not to have the former at all so much as a body to warm his bed when he wants it and leave him alone when he doesn’t. When Silver brings him back, however, he learns a lot about appreciating that people are willing to do the things they’re willing to do for him, and about how rewarding it can be to give back. His attitude towards both platonic and romantic relationships, and even familial ones to some degree, goes through a lot of growth during the time around Inquisition.

Similarly, people mostly expect more than he’s willing to give, or they expect nothing at all. Truthfully, in the end it’s the people who continue to expect more from him despite his and everyone else’s insistence that they shouldn’t that really influence him to put in the work to change and become a better person, as he realizes he can - and should - live up to them.

📙 What kind of subjects (of conversation, of discussion, in school or whatever) does your OC find interesting or engaging or that they can talk for hours about? What kind of stuff do they just find fun?What things bore your OC to tears and they couldn’t care less about? Why?

Himself. Juicy gossip. Various ways things and people are stupid. Flirty, innuendo-laden conversation. People’s secrets. He really enjoys feeling out what pushes other people’s buttons and often doesn’t know or care that he’s gone too far until someone takes a swing at him. He thinks pretty much everything else is some degree of boring, and magic, the inner workings of government, and listening to other people vent and complain without juicy secrets are incredibly boring, but he’ll do it if there are other things about the person that can distract him from what they’re saying - like, if they’re nice to look at or he needs them to continue wanting him around for one reason or another.

😊 What can make your OC smile even when they’re feeling down? What cheers them up and makes everything feel better for them? Is your OC genrally a happy person and do they enjoy making others smile? What about your OC makes others happy?

He tends to just try to drink or pull someone else down with him until he’s not feeling down anymore, but having a drink and talking with Silver can pretty much always lift his spirits. Their talks over drinks are one of the few times Silver feels able to speak freely and say what’s on his mind, and Rexus enjoys the bragging rights over being able to give that to him. That’s really what he does for people - he cares so little that they feel okay caring less and letting go themselves. He doesn’t do this on purpose, mind you, until later, but even if it happens subconsciously it’s a big part of the reason a lot of people like him.

Send me questions about my ocs?

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

Last line meme!

@lechatrouge673 tagged me! ME! I am so touched by this show of confidence that I ever write anything at all that I will Indeed grace you all with a snippet of A Thing:

——

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Tagging whoever wants to show what they’re working on!

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

OCs - in profile!

I have big, big love for a nice side-view screenshot of an oc, so, you know, since your ocs are all so lovely from the front, there’s no way they won’t be gorgeous in profile too! AND I HAVE A MIGHTY NEED TO SEE IT.

I’ll start; reblog with yours or post some and tag me!

Go!

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

for the ask thingy, 1, 8, 20. can be about any character you like :3

Yessss thank you!

1. Which character do you like more than you should?

Castor.

Noxus Desidenius Castor is a longtime Siccari agent who’s been contracted to find and shut down operations working to extract and smuggle slaves out of Tevinter - like Silver’s - and he does it with full belief that it’s the right thing to do. Super competent, super lawful-aligned and super dedicated to his job and his country. He’s also been the long-suffering but hopelessly dedicated lover of his himbo Qunari mercenary boyfriend, Qalabaan (belongs to @lavellanlove), for something like a decade. Eventually, he’ll have to make a choice whether or not to re-evaluate his definition of right and wrong and its relationship to his job, and make changes in his life accordingly.

Also, I should not under any circumstances love Rexus Leventis as much as I do.

8. Describe your character’s aesthetic in three words.

Let’s stick with Rexus here:

Sweat, hair, and leather.

20. What is something you’ve wanted to say about your character, but haven’t gotten an excuse to yet?

Pretty much everything I said about Castor.

I’ve yelled about Silver being a blood mage before but I’m gonna tell about it again because it’s worked so well for his character and I love him a lot.

Rex has a new partner named Tyranos Aurus, thanks to @lavellanlove, and the ship name is exactly what you’d expect.

Túlio is, in addition to being a fantastic dancer and performer, an avid and accomplished potter. It’s his father’s profession and he finds working on a pottery wheel relaxing and therapeutic.

If anyone read my old fic when I first started this blog and remembers the bumbling idiot mage scholar who’s actually Emma’s asshole uncle in disguise, Agent Sawyer, I gave him a massive glow-up. >.>

:D