foppishdandy

[foppishdandy]

@redridcr​ was definitely moping.

   “Accuse me of being decent again and I’ll be forced to perform three horrid capers at your expense.  Etiquette demands it.”  Magnanimity was a trait of weakness in too large amount,  but too small of it painted a man as a tyrant.  In polite society  (if it should even be called that)  one had to be aware of it to control their public image.  But the minutiae of it all became suddenly inconsequential,  as Red swept him up into plans that he never intended to be part.

   “Why would I want to accompany you?”  There it is,  creasing that perfectly manicured set of eyebrows,  the sign that Red had manage to perplex Dorian.  He turned to the comfort of ale,  a cloudy froth nearly on the bottom of the glass.  For as much as he griped,  it was better than nothing.  Better than most alternatives,  even.  Yet he shook his head with disapproval as he partook of the last sip.  An unseen barrier protects his impeccable moustache from wetting.  Freshly hydrated,  his ire returns to Red.  “The point that you’ve missed is that I don’t want this task.  This flower grows in remote locations.  Surely,  you’ve gathered that the outdoors is better suited to ...”  Judgement harshened his eyes as Red was appraised by them,  though softened upon finding his appearance tolerable.  “...you and your mares.  The botanists claim there are nodes in the Emerald Graves,  growing along the paths to the former estate of Lord Ramond Maurel.”

#more nature? yay. /sarcasm #asjdajkdajd #redridcr #t.

[foppishdandy]

Our special task force, the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service ( or UBCS ) is here to make sure that rain … doesn’t have to ruin your parade.

      ❝ TRUST IN US TO BE YOUR SHELTER FROM THE STORM. ❞

       UMBRELLA CORPORATION © copyright 1968-1998 | All rights reserved

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          𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓. |  𝙂𝙐𝙄𝘿𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎.|  𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙍𝘿. |  THREADS. | PROMO CRED.

INDEPENDENT CARLOS OLIVEIRA FROM RESIDENT EVIL — FEAT. OTHER UBCS MERCS. — DEAD BY DAY LIGHT & WESTERN & OTHER HORROR VERSES AVAILABLE

#self promo #getting back into writing 👉🏽👈🏽 #gif

[foppishdandy]

@redridcr​

It would have been a mistake to assume that Charlie was not well rounded or cultured in the different wonders and diverse ways of the world. His father took his sons on as many tedious meetings and gatherings that time & travel would allow. Still, Charlie stood so simple here; off white tunic tucked into black riding pants, cuffed brown boots caked in mud and whatever else was married to the ground. The three other Riders near him wore similar attire, showing off the practicability his namesake was known for. Overcoats were bundled neatly in their saddles packs along with whatever other supplies they needed. The group was traveling light today, showing that they didn’t plan to be on the road much longer.

There was no edge of offensive on Charlie’s face when Dorian spoke, dark eyes speculating over the sprinkling weather. Live and let live while lending along the way. His father’s words set heavy and still in his mind. Charlie didn’t have much time to think of a response because the redheaded rider afar quipped in, blue eyes and eyebrows raised as his hands worked on dissembling his tack as fast as possible.

“What, you got places to be, fancy pants?” the so called redheaded… Red said, girth slipping away from his steed’s stomach, “We got our own little birdies and none of ‘em said anything about dangerous roads. This is the best path we were told to take,” Red’s tone wasn’t exactly suspicious but pessimistic. His copper curls were frayed because of the humidity and his expression was haughty.

“Red,” Charlie would say in a specific sense and the Rider staved off a bit, “It’s a small delay. We will still meet up with Brindleback tonight. We knew the weather would start like this mid-afternoon,” Charlie reasoned, not skirting around names or locations in front of this stranger mage.

“Join us if you want; we’re not fighters by any means,” Charlie offered to Dorian, “But we always get to where we need to go, Maker allow it or not.

   A smile formed, quite relaxed though it never reaches the Pavus’ eyes, still tight with scrutiny on the man that bequeathed fancy pants upon his assortment of titles.  Dorian tipped his head, looking at Red with thinly veiled impatience and practiced, masterful timbre somewhere between grateful and chastising. 

   “To start, these are my most practical trousers.  The fancy ones would most certainly blind you with all its trappings.”

  Behind his easy words, his skin prickles. The latent energy of magic still clinging to the air about him, an anxious and familiar effect fresh after a fight. That, and all this dubious lying. If Dorian withholds this threat from these men, who claim to be too peaceful for violent matters, he could very well be the reason they are unprepared for battle. 

   “...Giving it a second thought,” he says with a dismissive flick of his fingers, a sudden change of heart from all his griping mere moments ago. “The rain might dilute all these ... mm, natural smells.”  He turned from them, as a noble might dismiss its help. They needed to be gone, although they yet know it. He would see that it happens, he could only hope that it was before they were discovered. “Maker forbid you meet any unsavory strangers, you will be glad I happened upon you.”

   A breath, then turning, Dorian turned an curious finger to Charlie’s emblem. “You say you are not fighters, yes? What did you say you were?” 

#they havent said what they were yet but dorian is trying to be as offputting as possible right now forgive him #being Good verbally is not his strong suit #redridcr #t.

[foppishdandy]

Ada Limón, from The Hurting Kind; "Banished Wonders"

[Text ID: What is it to be seen in the right way? As who you are? A flash of color, / a blur in the crowd, / something spectacular but untouchable.]

[foppishdandy]

So, I’m a bit of light you stick in a window sill to impress passersby?     All flash, no heat?

#i. Runs In The Blood

[foppishdandy]

@redridcr​

He’s young; in his thirties. Fresh faced and almost too plain. Dusty brown hair and dark eyes to match. The young man is wearing the classic Howard ‘H’ pin on his chest, giving away the new money name that his father established almost thirty years ago. A weaning fawn while the Pavus name stood with proud antlers–

“This isn’t ideal–” Charlie started, clicking his tongue and looking up at the sullen, spring sky. Raindrops spat in their face as they hid under whatever coverage they could find, “And we weren’t expecting another party member. But,” he paused, removing wet gloves from his hands, “Still ask anyone for anything you need. Red will be most reliable,” he explained, nodding towards the vibrant redhead taking tack off their soaked steeds.

“Yes, well...”

The simple surroundings, and its inhabitants, only highlighted what made the Pavus so very different. His collar stood up to his cheekbones, pulled by ringed fingers to stave off the chill in the wet air. His brow, manicured without err, pinched and his expression, though fine to look at, hid not its disapproval at their predicament.

“I hadn’t taken account of this capricious weather.” He tossed his fingers towards it all in a negligible way. “Or to have need of your services.”

Dorian did not explain his situation, not forthright. In his world, which was not a plain one, nor an upstart ‘H’ for a family still carving their laurels out, but an established macrocosm of elites, this deviant skill to omit that which did not serve was just the way one spoke. “But must we stay here for long?” Skirting around the ambush that left him walking the roads alone, information that he had to be in a more magnanimous mood to share. Yet as he looked at this young Howard, the pesky conscious that often tipped him towards less selfish actions worked his words more carefully. “It isn’t wise to occupy the roadside like this. The locals,” this untruth came effortless from practiced mouth. “they say it’s dangerous.”

#redridcr #mwah ty again for this starter!!!! hope this works for you uwu

[foppishdandy]

“To listen is to lean in, softly, with a willingness to be changed by what we hear.”

— Mark Nepo

[foppishdandy]

like for a small starter - ! (comment a topic for extra oomph if you like)

#or for me to dig around for an old thread of ours to continue - #lmk if you have a preference of which ;v; #**dusts off my keyboard ** #ooc.

[foppishdandy]

My one and only 💖

#i. Picture It In Marble

[foppishdandy]

“It was good for a while, being empty. I didn’t hurt anymore. But as time went on, it was like I could hear myself from far away, begging for permission to come back.”

— Myra McEntire

[foppishdandy]

@wolf-at-worlds-end​

What in the gods names was he saying indeed! He was out of his depth. Not only did he not know how to talk to nobles, play this “Game”, he had a poor taste in his mouth about the people of Orlais. 

Flashes of his childhood, if it could be called that, more like stolen time, trickle into his mind. Rage starts to take him. They can’t understand him because they didn’t give him words for years. He couldn’t speak more plainly. Well he could but it would start another war no doubt.

His breathing quickened, hands pumped into fits, claws digging into calloused skin. Marks already there from times he bit his tongue. This was ridiculous, he had a sky to mend, a god to heal and a world to save.

Valor started to pour forth, a small comfort. The spirit was not Cole, not compassion it couldn’t offer kind words to calm. 

Breathe, this is just a battlefield we are not used to. 

The Avvar took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Now he wasn’t even sure what he was on about before. 

“I am not the Herald of Andraste and for the last time no I do not have a wife! Why does that even matter? The sky is torn asunder and you are concerned if I have a wife?!”

A gasp is shared throughout the audience. The advice Dorian had given was making the situation more complicated, that could not be any clearer. Regret over his words was a familiar feeling, and though sorry at the state of disrepair it would leave the Inquisition’s reputation, it was all amusing. 

He had no regard for the Game, or putting upon a charade for the comfort of anyone. It was so naive to not understand the magnitude of influence just standing in this one room, what they could do with the right luncheon conversation. Did he simply not care? Should Dorian be embarrassed on his behalf?

Concern furrows his face as he looked between them: a congregation of muttering Players, and one very imposing, very upset qunari. Best that he step in before the retort becomes vows to tear their misfit, merry band of world-savers apart. “The anonymity, it tears at you, doesn’t it?” Directs Dorian to the woman fanning herself with ferocity, enough to jingle the precious glass beads dangling from her mask. “He prefers the mystery when it comes to his personal affairs, but you know who adores invasive questions?” He directs her attention with a subtle swing of his ringed, index finger toward one unsuspecting back of Cullen Rutherford.

#wolf-at-worlds-end #dorian: oh this is hilarious #also dorian: fuck i should put the fire out tho.

[foppishdandy]

@vxctorx​ liked for a starter.

“Ah-ha!” Heaving upright like a marionette whose strings were jerked taut, Dorian seemed possessed by the spirit of epiphany. The daybed he was lethargically occupying creaked in such protest. Magazines of a variety laid about in piles on end tables, spilled out onto the floor, but he’d managed to miss most of them when he brought down his feet. He called out to the other, who’d just stepped out to fetch all the complications that come with teatime at this estate. 

“Victor, a moment!” Walking quickly with an issue of haunted locations to visit rolled up in his fist. He held it open, crowding the doorway as he emphatically shows him to the open page. “There is something in this photograph, right here. Can you see it? Right beside this excerpt on the abandoned menagerie.” His eyes are pinned to the image, though nothing looks out of sorts. Cryptic depictions of a forgotten zoo late at night. 

But he sees, or feels, something else pulling. With the same suddenness as before, he rounds to Victor. “We must go.”

#vxctorx #dorian with mage eyes: i see dead things

[foppishdandy]

@lady-archivist​​ liked for a starter.

Bookstacks as high as the chin teetered in the arms of passing refugees. They were being directed. Fiction there, poetry there. Their attempts were sad. The damage was already done to these works. Even without all the time of cold and neglect, they were leaps behind the preservation of text compared to his homeland. No temperature control, humidity all out of sorts. It was miraculous that anything was in a state of legibility. 

Dorian pays them no mind. He is perfectly inclined to resist becoming accustomed to the disorganization of it all. He comes to her, a dastardly smile starting to turn his lips up, slight at it is. “I have need of you,” rubbing together his fingers before showing his palm. “I am searching for a missing chapter. And, not to worry, I don’t come emptyhanded. I have a rumor, and I believe this will be of mutual benefit.”

#lady-archivist

[foppishdandy]

@wolf-at-worlds-end​ liked for a small starter.

Dorian fluttered his fingers, moved by the thrill that came with the price of a scandalized Orlesian face. They were making every attempt to hide their gawking eyes from behind a fan, but its gilded edges only brought to it his attention. 

Shifting his weight into the Inquisitor’s space, he dared to raise an eyebrow at him and offer a sagely judgement. “What are you muttering on about, Inquisitor? You’re frightening the dignitaries.” Quieter than before, “And as much as I adore watching them clutch the jewels on their chatelaines, it is my duty to provide advice where it’s due. Speak up, if your wish is to keep them pacified.”

#wolf-at-worlds-end

[foppishdandy]

like for a small starter - ! (comment a topic for extra oomph if you like)

#or for me to dig around for an old thread of ours to continue - #lmk if you have a preference of which ;v; #**dusts off my keyboard ** #ooc.

[foppishdandy]

squiiiiiiiints /is that a foppishdandy i see??/ HIYA. <3

TIS I! <3 HELLO FRIEND!! )))

#aglaecan #ooc. #;v; pokes my fingers together... here to revive myself and others w writing hopefully #))

[foppishdandy]

Casually strolls into the mage's study and plops himself onto an armchair, then picks up the book closest to him and pretends to be engrossed in reading.

These country people have such fascinating collections of outdated text. Today's entertainment is an author that proclaimed to have the wherewithal to change necromantic magic through some star-aligned means. It is loosely based in facts, and scoffable at its most preposterous detailing.

He startled from a passage as footsteps rapidly approached, confident strides that invoked irritation in Dorian. The nerve someone would need to have to intrude upon him at such a pace. He spun right around, the glinting spike on the back of his boots' heel cutting through the dust.

"Is there a reason for this intru...?"

But cutting words fade to quiet as his eyes descend upon the slouching man. Looking from him to where he'd came, listening for a clue for a moment, and when none presented itself he spoke up with cautious judgement. "Pardon, Inquisitor, I didn't realize it was you stampeding in here." He slid a ribbon between the page he'd stopped on, shut it closed. "You do realize that book you're... reading... is upside-down, yes?"

#aegisregalis #hmmlaksdjasdajk #HELLo