keeperofmagi | random ass rp

[Initially when he wakes up, Twisted Fate already knows that he's not in bed alone, and that's just the way he prefers it. He can't quite remember immediately what happened, but it must have been good. Was it one of the barmaids or one of the nurses? Ah, who knows.

Slowly, he sits up and rolls his shoulders. On his right arm is another tattoo -- not Dalish in the least, it's of some kind of serpent wound around a blade -- and on his left shoulder is a brand, long since scarred. A symbol of a crystal surrounded by a half-sun.

Everything has a story.

Twisted Fate leans over to see who he's with this time, albeit the results leave him wide-eyed and vaguely debating if he should be running out the room right now.]

...Well then.

[Ahh, decisions. What will more likely ensure his survival?]

For someone that looked perpetually angry while awake, Nerva looked strangely peaceful while she slept - one arm resting above the blanket she was curled under, her normally tightly bunned hair loose on the pillow and down her neck.

She was peaceful, however, until she heard a voice, and within a half a heart beat she was awake, and thrusting her arm out to find the sword she always kept at the side of her bed, only to find it - missing.

Cursing in Orlesian she made a fist instead reading to punch the intruder square in the jaw - only to catch sight of a wide-eyed and very naked Twisted Fate.

Her brain could not process this information immediately, staring at him with an expression that was somewhere between incredulous and furious.

The fist is about what he expected, but he's surprised that it's not landing in his face or any other part of his body. Fate notices that she's in much the same state as he is -- naked and confused.

Though he usually takes delight from teasing Nerva, he's sensible enough to avert his eyes from her. She, at least, seems the prude type, but maybe he's wrong. They couldn't have ended up like this on accident, but he's trying to remember how things ended up this way.

"A good morning to you too," he starts, slowly attempting to piece this all together.

Cade awoke with a pain in his cheek and realized that he was lying facedown on a hardwood floor, totally naked. He lifted his head and immediately regretted it as his entire body complained, the region from his shoulders to the backs of his knees feeling as though the skin had been flayed from them completely.
He turned over to see that his skin was still in fact there, but had definitely had... something happen to it. And there were letters branded into his arse, though he couldn't tell what they meant from upside down.

He heard stirring in the bed above him, frowned, and lay his head back down. Maybe if he went back to sleep he would die and he wouldn't have to deal with this.

Ironically, it isn't even until Twisted Fate averts his eyes that she realises that she's naked. Strangely, her hand goes to shield her shoulder, first - where the skin is angry and puckered and long since scarred by flame. Then she quickly and efficiently grabs the sheet off the bed and wraps it around her like a toga, glaring at him. (She doesn't seem that put off by his nakedness, at least.)

"What did you do to me?" She snapped at him, because, obviously, this must be entirely his fault somehow.

Then she noticed more movement out of the corner of her eye, to see a similarly naked - and very flayed - Cade lying on the floor. All the blood drained from her face.

"I assure you that if I did anything to you, it was with complete consent and you wanted it. Frankly, I'm just as surprised as you are."

There's a sigh and Fate is standing up, brushing himself off and not in the least bit concerned about being naked. Instead, he's going to try to figure out where the hell his clothes ended up.

Only, he sees Cade down on the floor, and this suddenly seems definitely like he's in a pickle.

Great. Two templars. He's done worse and could have done worse, but damn.

Well, now they were looking at him-- he could feel it-- and he couldn't have that. Despite his soreness, he sat up, covered himself with his hands, and faced them awkwardly. Oh Maker. He had hoped he'd been kidnapped, but Nerva was here, and... shit.
"..I'm," he said flatly, looked around, couldn't see his clothes. "...going to go now." He leaned forward, tugged a blanket from the bed, threw it around his shoulders with one hand, and clamped it shut in front of him. Then he got to his feet, trying not to look at either of them.

"Yes and I completely believe that," She muttered to Twisted Fate, though part of her did believe it, especially when she glimpsed the letters on Cade's backside. And then - with a grimace, she adds:

"... Cade. You have... ropes. Around your ankles. And you should probably dress yourself."

"Sometimes I don't lie, you know."

In as much as he's not entirely fond of Cade -- though that's up in the air now -- he certainly takes in no pleasure in this sort of discomfort. Tricks and wordplay is one thing, but apparently a night of uncertainty is too much for a pair of prudes.

Fate clears his throat and eyes the exit. "Yes, well. I suppose I shall just gather my belongings, we dodge each other for awhile, and pretend this all never happened? I assume that's the route this is going."

Cade learned about the ropes half a second before Nerva warned him, and both revelations were too late. He had tried to take a step and collapsed to the floor again with a heavy thud, blanket and all.
It took him a moment before he was able to recover his dignity enough to murmur, "where are my clothes."

"Just how often is sometimes?" She grumbles back. "Or are you actually named after a drink?"

Making sure her makeshift toga was secure, she stumbled out of the bed. "I don't even know what you're talking about. Nothing. Happened."

She was more than happy to go full denial on this one. Finding what could only be Cade's underpants - as they definitely weren't hers, or Fate's (she assumed), she threw them beside Cade's head on the floor.

"Sometimes is sometimes, and I'm flattered you remembered that story."

Finding his trousers, Fate calmly starts to clothe himself, dusting himself off absently as he goes. A bit wrinkled, but he supposes that could be worse.

"That's the spirit, Nerva. Because you most certainly own that riding crop, do you?" A grin forms faintly. "Cade, you aren't going to die of embarrassment down there, are you?"

Cade swiftly reclaimed them, but found to his chagrin that he could not put them back on until his feet were untied. He disappeared beneath the blanket for several moments as he did so, then stood, presumably at least partially clothed, but still with the blanket around him, as he scanned the room for his other garments. He pointedly avoided looking at the other two, but his furious blush indicated he had heard Twisted Fate and was choosing to ignore him.

Interestingly, the fact that Cade was blushing hard enough to glow actually made her feel better. Twisted Fate was being an ass, of course, but that was to be expected. Cade blushing so badly at least meant that she wasn't the one taking this the worst, which probably was a bit cruel but she could take what little salve for her ego she could get.

She picked up the riding crop and tucked it under her arm, looking haughty.

"Of course it's mine. What else would I use to deal with animals." Okay yes she might still be a bit prickly.

Nerva groans as she wakes - every muscle in her body feeling overworked and sore, and her head is still fuzzy with sleep. She raises a hand to rub over her eyes as she sits upright, sliding her legs off the side of the bed. The light was quite a bit brighter than it should have been - usually she woke just before the dawn, but now it was bright and warm and definitely, definitely too late. What did she even--

The knowledge dawns on her like a cold bucket being poured down her spine, because she can tell she's not alone. Someone is in the bed with her. Slowly, quietly, she reaches for her sword - which, thankfully, is actually there this time.

So when she stands and turns to face her intruder (except she's pretty sure this isn't her room), she is standing completely naked with a long, unsheathed blade pointing at her "companion".

The look of shamed disgust makes her look queasy.

"Get. Up."

Wake up with Nerva once? Shame on him.

Wake up with Nerva twice? Shame on them both.

Twisted Fate cracks open an eye and peers up at the angry, naked templar above him, pointing her sword and looking absolutely furious and disgusted. It'd almost be attractive if it wasn't for the disgusted part, actually. Nerva's far from being hideous, but her rigidness does her no favors.

With a sigh, he slowly sits up, stretching.

"You know, if we're going to keep doing this, I'd like to be a little more sober next time?"

"As if this wasn't entirely your plan." She lowers the blade (it was basically for show anyway) to look around the room - which doesn't help, because now she is definitely sure that this isn't hers.

She didn't even notice the long trail of hickies down the back of her neck that only become visible as she turns around.

Turning also doesn't quite hide the blush that actually starts turning her pale skin red down her neck and shoulders, save for the scar. She leaned down and picked up her shift - pulling it on only to let out a groan as she found it was torn nearly into two pieces.

"I can't believe you ripped my favourite shift...."

"Trust me, if it was, I've somehow outsmarted myself. Which would be incredible."

For a moment, he's distracted by her back, and snorts softly to himself. Well, clearly, his mouth was very busy last night. Though if his ass has anything to say about it, so was her riding crop.

He cracks a smile at her blush, but refrains from teasing her. Yet.

"Not my proudest moment," he confesses, his voice a shy bit softer. "I'm usually more careful with fine shirts. So I'll owe you one for that."

"If this is what you called 'smart' then you're more of an idiot than I expected," She muttered, but the initial shock was wearing off, so it sounded less vitriolic than it could have been, and more simply long-suffering.

At his other comment, she just makes a small dismissive noise. She wouldn't take it. After all - he was right. He hadn't magicked her. She'd come of her own free will. Apparently. And the fact that she had drunk enough to forget, when she usually drank very little, was just more proof that she was probably planning to do this even before she was drunk.

Which of course, made this The Worst Possible Thing That Could Possibly Have Happened to her. She dropped the torn shift and started looking around for the rest of her clothes, and at the very least, managed to find her small clothes. They were just the bare linens of a soldier, and they hung a little lopsided off her hip.

"Where even are we? Is this your room?"

She nearly stumbled over a bottle of wine, and picked it up to put it out of the way. Well. One culprit found.

"Who's the idiot? The one who remembers what happened, or the one who can't remember how she'd gotten here?" he muses, the questioning absolutely not serious in the least. Either way, they both know the truth; Fate had not tricked her. He wouldn't for this sort of thing.

He does feel a bit bad about the shift, and he does mean it when he says he'll make it up to her. Not that she probably believes him, but that's not really his problem.

In any case, he absently starts picking his clothes off the floor.

"This? No. I imagine I, ah. Procured it. As I do, as I always do." Fate snorts softly. "I actually don't know whose room it is."

"In this case I will have to admit an amount of idiocy." That actually made the blush worse, which made her angry at herself, because she normally didn't blush. But apparently being caught naked, having slept with an elven mage, again, was sufficient reason. The fact that he claimed to remember when she couldn't was even worse.

Her head immediately turned at that. "You just told me you weren't sober," She accused, the barest trace of panic in her voice. Of course, turning her head had the added benefit of seeing him in all his naked glory, which hadn't bothered her before, but now that she thought that not only had she been a) intimately acquainted with that body and b) that he remembered her being intimately acquainted with that body, suddenly she was Very Very Aware of him. She hurriedly tried to remember what had happened the night before, and had a vague recollection of challenging him to a drinking contest, and then decided she really, really didn't want to remember. She turned her gaze sharply away.

"I wonder how many apology notes I'm going to have to write," She muttered a little darkly. She managed to find her breeches, which were, thankfully, intact.

"Oh, please. I can be drunk and mostly remember what occurred. Hardly a first for me. Terribly sorry that you have such difficulties yourself."

By now, of course, he's not concerned with his state of affairs, being naked before her. He's more interested in being sure his own clothes are generally clean and not torn; he is a bit sorry that he'd ripped any of hers, and he does intend on replacing it. Whether she likes it or not.

Fate does respect the state of one's clothes.

"None, if no one knows." Twisted Fate smiles wryly. "Really, is this so bad? I like to think we enjoyed ourselves and you can be lovely when you aren't scowling at me so much."

She felt a little more comfortable after she pulled on her breaches, buttoning them up tight before continuing her search.

"Given the state of your backside I'm not convinced there was no scowling last night," Nerva replied drily, finding his trousers and holding them up for him without actually looking at him.

"You realise that this goes against everything I am meant to uphold, yes?" There was a pause, and then a slight mutter. "That is, if I were actually allowed to do my job, here."

"You seemed like you were enjoying yourself. I know I was," he says, chuckling. Templar or not, he did sincerely have a pleasant time. The first time they'd stumbled into this, it was alarming because he was not entirely convinced that neither Cade nor Nerva would strangle him for it. Not that he'd tricked them, but that's not something either of them would admit to either.

There's a soft sigh. "Nerva, everything we want to uphold, no matter where we are -- that's difficult to coincide with what the Inquisition needs, don't you think? My beliefs certainly don't always stack up to it, but we stay out of some necessity." It's hard to say if he truly stays because it's for the benefit of the Inquisition or something else, but he's not lying either.

"I imagine once everything is said and done, I'll go back to my running away from templars and watching my back all the time, but for now, is it really a shame to enjoy oneself? You certainly seem like you believe that, to some degree."

She shook his trousers at him, still not willing to look in his direction, and getting redder by the minute - though mostly around her throat.

"I'm not here to enjoy myself," She said a little tightly. "And I'm fairly certain that sleeping with Dalish Apostates doesn't fall under my duties as given by the Inquisition." Was that - wryness in her voice? Could that even be a joke?

She wasn't going to talk about shame. Of course she felt shame. But she felt shame from nearly everything about her life, at the moment, so what was one more thing. Most of the shame was an attempt to cover up whatever other feelings she felt, which she most certainly did not want to feel, or talk about, or think about.

But he was being unfairly kind, so.

"If you're fishing for compliments then you can at least find me some left over wine to get rid of this hand over. Then I'll see if I can find you one."

Goodness, that actually sounds a bit like a joke from her for a change. Fate chuckles softly. "We could check if it was. Have a night with Twisted Fate. Really, it should be a duty. I like being preoccupied that way. Likely to cause less trouble, too."

At long last, he finally takes his trousers and places them on, sparing her of any further nudity.

"I assure you if I was looking, it wouldn't immediately be from you. But I'll oblige; I'm certain there's something left." The smile he wears is a bit more warm; it's harder to be completely cold to her after two rolls in bed.

The elf turns away; after a bit of searching, he plucks a bottle up from the floor, peering at it curiously. Enough for a few swigs, from the looks of it.

"Ladies first," he muses, offering it to her.

"It might keep you occupied, but I'm fairly sure it would keep everyone else distracted," She replied, finally endevouring to look at him now that he had some form of clothes on, and - Nope. Still way more attractive than he had any right to be. Was that the effect of falling to her weakness twice in a row, or if that had been the weakness in the first place, or if it was because she wasn't currently a ball of fury that was unable to look at the world in any shade save red.

Whatever it was, it made her clear her throat, reach out, take the bottle - and a swig - and then hand it back.

"Fine. Next time, in a state where I'm not black out drunk." That was a compliment, right? Sort of?

Or probably just a confession.

Those were the same things, really.

There are a great many things that Beleth admires about Nerva. It is a long, long list, and she finds more things every day, every morning she wakes up next to Nerva, she discovers something new to admire--to love about that amazing woman who has, most likely due to being hit too many times in the head with blunt weapons, found Beleth an acceptable partner.

One of those traits of Nerva's that Beleth admires is her self-restraint. However, admiration does not strictly mean that she likes it. Just once, she wants to see that self-restraint slip. She wants to see Nerva wanting her, unable to resist her. She wants to know that she can drive Nerva Lecuyer to distraction.

Which is why she locates Nerva one day, while the other woman is on duty. She's got it all planned out--the first time, she dresses perfectly normally, looking like there's nothing out of the ordinary. Except, there's a little smile on her face as she approaches Nerva, with mischief in it that can't quite be hidden.

"Nerva," She greets, sliding up to her. "Anything of interest happen?"

She's gotten used to that smile. It is a smile that seems to only appear on elves, and almost always means trouble. So she frowns as Beleth approaches, setting the edge of her shield down on the stone of the battlement.

"I saw two eagles fighting over a kill," She said, still frowning, with a question in her furrowed brows. "Otherwise, no."

Well, she's not wrong. Beleth turns to look over the battlement curiously, then up into the sky. She turns her head slightly, glancing at Nerva from the corner of her eye. "Hmm. Well, if you wanted something interesting to happen, I have a few things I could suggest." She pauses for a moment, eyes darting around to make sure that no one is within hearing distance, before she moves close enough that she brushes up against Nerva, and places one hand gently on the other woman's waist, leaning up to whisper in her ear.

"You could let me pull you into one of the empty rooms, and then you can watch while I strip, just for you." Beleth murmurs it in a low voice, smile still going strong. "But I won't let you touch me. You have to watch while I run my hands down my hips, down my thighs." And she pulls away from Nerva's ear, just enough to be able to turn and look her in the eye. "I love that look of frustration you get, when you want to pin me down. I'll stroke myself between my legs, and you have to sit there and watch as I pull off my underwear off."

That's all she has (for now), and she takes a step back, smile growing as her eyes dart questioningly over Nerva's face.

random ass rp

THE MORNING AFTER.

i'm doing prose because i'm lazy but feel free to do brackets XD

s'all good! whichever is easier for ya!

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THE MORNING AFTER. AGAIN.

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sinnamon roll

Re: sinnamon roll

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