Dragon Age/Fantasy Roleplay (OCs ONLY !PLEASE BE SERIOUS!)

@LilD Yep!)

Name: Bluebell "Blue"
Race: Half Elf
Gender Orientation/Pronouns: Male He/Him doesn't really give a shit about gender call him whatever you want
Age: 23
Appearance: 6' 2" (lanky) He has really kinky, curly wild blonde hair that is to his shoulders and hazel eyes. Hehas pale skin, dark freckles and cheek dimples.
Sexuality: Pansexual
Birthplace: The Free Marches
Biography: Blue was born to a group of nomadic Dalish elves. He was separated from them at a young age and hunkered down with some dwarves travelling to the city. They took care of him and raised him until he was sixteen to which he took to becoming a travelling musician. He knows lots of people all across Thedas, and many friends. He's an airhead but quite smart. He has a very hippy oriented personality, and is very carefree. Despite this he is extremely loving and tentative, and usually goes out of his way to make people smile.
Romantic options: Panromatic
Birthday: April 13th
Class: Rogue training but works mainly as a Bard.
Occupation: Bard he plays the Viol.

(That's a cool character.)

Thank you!!

We can begin if you all would like!

(yes please!)

Is anyone else on besides us?

(Not that I can tell. But there are only 2 other people so…)

(I am here)

(joy!)

Alright! Let's get started!

By the way we can have up to two characters!

(Alright cool. If we're ever in need of one I can add. For now, I'm good with Elinor)

Blue wrangled lightly with his travelling bag, humming in satisfaction as he managed to shake loose his viol case. He glanced around at all the rich folk and gave a light sigh, once again dwelling on the fact that this was why he rarely came to Orlais. The people here were rich and drunk on power and the game, something he was far too blunt and clueless for. He could play it just fine, he just didn't care to. Too much work, too many metaphors and secrets. He much preferred to be honest. This was a city of scandal, born and bred on the quiet murmur of gossip and the topsy turvy rollercoaster of politics. He much preferred Ferelden and the Free Marches. Nevarra was alright, but the freedom the other two allowed for was a welcome change from the other two. Nevarra involved too much faith. Too much of putting names on things that didn't really need a name. Faith was faith. It was simple and pure, not imposing and all powerful. It didn't make one person more disgusting or unholy then another.

Blue huffed, reminding himself that here, the tips were good. Which they were. Incredibly in fact. People here had more disposable money then they could properly dispose. It was easy to make more the a few thousand within a week. And, here, the Inns were much, much nicer. Even if the people weren't.

Samine sidled up to a fop wearing a expensive outfit, eyeing him like a jaguar with their prey. "Hello…" they said seductively. "Care for a good time? I'll make you…" They trailed their long, slim fingers across his chest. "Breathless,"
They dragged him over to an alcove while he was too baffled to speak and too drunk to protest at a pretty girl dragging him to a secluded spot.
Or so he thought.
When Sam drew the pink curtain used for privacy closed, their smile changed into a vicious smirk, grabbing the long rope that they had tucked inside the bodice of their dress. Slashing their nails across his face, Sam waited for the lethargic poison to take effect before looping the rope across his neck and yanking on it as hard as they could.
A couple moments later, there was a muffled thud, and Sam strolled out, hair mussed carefully to give off a different air. They approached the barkeep and pointed to the still closed alcove. "Still enjoying himself," they explained with a mischievous smirk, until someone tapped their shoulder.
"I don't hear anything," (who wants to be that person?)

Felsor had been in an alcove alone, as he usually was in such places. They were good for focusing on finding ones inner self, guided through an influx of energies and emotions. He had very nearly reached it this time too, but there was only so long that he could go unnoticed.
An almost candid smile on his face, he had quickly come to at hearing a rather large thud in the alcove next to his. Clearly satisfied, a woman was walking out, though a quick listen near the adjacent alcove revealed that the man did not seem to be breathing at all. Frowning, he followed the woman, gently tapping her on the shoulder.
In his pleasant baritone, he calmly told her, "I don't hear anything. Are you sure that he is alright?"

"Well, you do know what they say: drowsiness is an aftereffect of…" Sam raised an eyebrow, quelling the small surge of panic. They'd been in worse scrapes than this.

(( Three to four sentences guys. This is a multi-paragraph rp

(right sorry, forgot)

A soft, yet hearty chuckle escapes the Qunari. "I do greatly admire your boldness. You seem well versed in certain skills to say the least, to be able to leave a man unable to walk afterwards! May I buy you a drink? You seem as if you would be a well versed drinking partner, and have plenty of stories to share." The offer is kind, and he means no foul play by it. Honestly, he simply has no wish to drink alone in such a crowded place.

"Well, you do know what they say: drowsiness is an aftereffect of…" Sam raised an eyebrow, quelling the small surge of panic. They'd been in worse scrapes than this.

Revised version: "Well, you do know what they say: drowsiness is an aftereffect of…" Sam raised an eyebrow, quelling the small surge of panic. They'd been in worse scrapes than this. "Are you positively sure?" Digging their fingernails into his skin, they hoped that the poison would take quick effect even without the alcohol.

Thank you!!))

Seeming to be rather confused, Felsor carefully removes the Elf's hand from his arm, frowning at the cresent moon mark cut into his skin by their fingernails. Feeling a twinge of poison in his blood, he looks at them in a rather unsettling way. "Did you honestly just try to poison me? I had made no moves against your person. If you were unwanting of a drink you could have simply told me. It is not as if I do not get turned down often enough as it is." Eyes almost boring into the creature before him, he awaits their response impatiently.

(I must apologize in leaving this early on, and this will be my last post for the night. It is rather late where I am, and sleep tends to help in daily activities.)

Blue is taken aback by the conversation, picking up on it just due to being so close. He nervously swallows before moving to gently touch the large Qunari's arm.

"H-Hey, mister. It's alright. I'm- uh -I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it. L-Look you can by me a drink -oh, fuck- wait- I-I didn't mean it like that. I-I mean- Unless you wanted it to be like that. I mean-…Shit, look. Just…We don't have to fight.", he stuttered out, not exceptionally prepared for such a tense confrontation, "Just…Just embrace the love, guys."

He then realized that probably wasn't the right phrase to use and flushed darkly, thinking about how a little nobody half elf like him shouldn't willingly put himself in situations like this, nor make himself responsible for getting people out of fights and getting himself in them.

Sam looked at Felsor, unnerved by his intensity. "I'm sorry… you seemed like a bad egg at first. You know… the rich ones who use a girl like myself looking for a way to survive, then discard her once she becomes their responsibility," They looked at Blue. "And, yes, I'm a girl," (no, for clarification, they're not. They're just in disguise to kill that dude from earlier) "You're telling me, a lovemaker, to embrace the love? I've 'embraced' a couple things in the past hours already… not all of them as large," they insinuated, eyes wide in mock innocence.

(anyone on?)

Eyes regaining their normal hue, and intensity fading, Felsor turns to his newfound companions. Smiling brightly, Felsor looks at them both. Laughing a bit a the half elfs phrasing and mannerisms, he once again speaks. "I can see the reasoning behind such an act, and once again, would both of you like to join me for a drink? Drinking alone is never pleasant for me, even if others seem to enjoy it greatly." After saying his peace, he begins to make his way towards the bar, the other patrons clearing a path for the large man. Even in such a crowded bar, the other customers give the Qunari a wide berth.

"I'm sorry, but I got to go," Sam said. "It's past hours for me, and I want to go home before anything happens,'' They fingered the locket at their throat, looking anxiously at the time. Would there be enough time to deliver it to their… client?

Blue breathed a sigh of relief as the situation diffused, taking a moment to adjust his hat before leaning down to now wrestle his viol into his bag. Sam's words made him look up curiously, and he nibbled on his bottom lip, squashing his question.

"I hope you make it home alright then.", he said cheerfully, hiking his travel bag up onto his shoulders, "And, be careful. You never know what to expect out of Orlais."

He could tell the much smaller elf was lying, but he didn't mind. The elf's business was their own, and it wasn't his place to stick his nose where it didn't belong. He gave the other elf a smile before making his way over to the bar, tipping his hat at a few patrons he knew before perching his gangly limbs onto the bench next to the Qunari. He sighed in a pleased manner as the bartender slid him his usual drink, sliding a few coins his way with a wink. They had been childhood friends back when Blue was still travelling with the dwarves.

He glanced at the Qunari with a now easy smile, flicking his hat back out of his eyes, "Name's Blue, by the way. Short for Bluebell."

Elinor was walking past the bar when the bartender came out to her. He claimed there had been a man who had walked in and never walked out. Being a healer, she was willing to help anyone, even something as trivial as drunkenness. She nodded and took the offer. She came in and walked past an interesting group of people who were headed to the bar. One of them had strange markings on his arm. Elinor shrugged this off, many people around here had odd scars. The bartender directed her to the back curtained off area. She thanked him and entered. Elinor checked his pulse and breath. Finding nothing, she knew he was dead. Nothing could save him now. As she got up to leave she spotted something on his face. How did she not notice it before? Nail marks raked across his face. They were red with blood but mixed among the scarlet was a greenish blue tinge. Poison.