sonofanohrian-blog
"This isn't my job..."
Dwyer from FE: Fates. Affiliated with FERP.
tag: sonofanohrian
//NOT SPOILER FREE
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((WHOO BOY
I’ve had this muse for how long? Some more than three years? I’m really glad to have had him, but I think it’s time to put thus muse to rest (at least for now). I’ll still be over at Robyn, but I’m just really not feeling it for Dwyer. I hope I wasn’t too much of a Dwyer hog. Thanks for the lovely Dwyer threads, and I hope I can make more wonderful threads over on Robyn!))
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Forging Bonds: Gift Exchange
Send an icon to send the muse a gift. Exchange gifts with your old friends and new friends alike! Your family, your lovers, or even a stranger!
Consumable Gifts:
🍫 - Chocolates!
🍷 - Wine!
🍰 - Cake!
🥄 - A Treat! (Asker’s Choice of food)
Non-consumable Tangible Gifts:
💮 - Flowers!
💝 - A handmade gift! (Asker’s choice)
🐸 - A frog!
🗡️ - A new weapon!
💸 - Money!
💍 - Jewelry!
👕 - Clothing! (Asker’s choice)
🐶 - A Surprise Pet! (Asker’s choice of the animal)
Non-consumable Intangible Gifts:
🗨️ - “Maybe the real gifts were the friends we made along the way…”
🤗 - A hug!
🖕 - The finger!
💋 - A kiss!
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Forging Bonds: Prompting Needed!
Below are a collection of starters to get event threads started. Take your muse to visit the warmly decorated Liminal Castle, a peaceful boat ride in the clear, petal-filled waters of the neighboring river, or perhaps the outskirts of the castle, with games aplenty!
The Liminal Castle stands as the beautiful centerpiece of the festival, decorated in reds, pinks, and countless flowers. Curled ribbons hung from the ceiling of the ballroom, hearts were pinned to every wall, and balloons floated about the room. The sound sound of string music hummed dully in your ears. Food lines the walls, while friends of old and new mingle by the tables or on the dance floor. Someone approaches! What can you say…
“The town is so pretty decorated!”
“Wow, there’s so many flowers…”
“Isn’t this festival a waste of resources?”
I’ve never tried this food before, have you?”
“I’m so glad I got to spend this time with you.”
“Well aren’t you all dressed up?”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there.”
“Dancing looks fun! Don’t you want to try?”
“Sorry, I’m hiding from someone, can we just pretend to talk?”
“These flowers are all gonna be dead flowers in a week.”
Just at the river a boat ride is operating, offering to take its guests along the river. Petals decorated the surface of the water and its surface is so clear, that colorful stones can be spotted just underneath the surface. The guests, dressed for the chilly weather, are chatting eagerly on how beautiful the trees look, covered in a thin layer of powdered snow. Someone looks to you! What can you say…
“I’m freezing out here!”
“The petals look so beautiful floating along our boat. I can almost touch them.”
“Would you like a drink? It’ll warm you right up!”
“I can’t believe you talked me into this stupid boat ride.”
“What do you mean it’s too cold? I could go for a swim!”
“What do you think about when you look out at the water?”
“What are you most grateful for?”
“Pass me the paddle. You’re exhausted already. I’ll take a turn!”
“I’m glad we’re friends.”
“Have we met before? You look so familiar!”
The outskirts of the castle boast a lively competition of several games, such as archery, corn hole, soccer, and more. Many guests are rolling up their sleeves, eager to prove themselves competent! The grounds are lit with several heart-shaped lights and there’s a small amount of snow on the ground. Laughter fills the air, along with the mist of their hot breaths in the chill. Flowers that thrive in the cold decorate the tables, along with ice sculptures. Blankets are draped over open chairs. You bump into someone! What can you say…
“Care to play a game?”
“I wonder how long it took to set all these games up…”
“I challenge you to a game of your choice! I hope your ready to lose.”
“Aren’t these ice sculptures amazing?”
“Here, take a blanket. You’re shivering…”
“I just watched you win that last game! What’s your secret?”
“I can’t believe these flowers can only survive in the cold! It’s crazy!”
“Do you want to go for a walk? It’s too loud here…”
“Your nose is redder than the castle! Let’s get some hot cocoa.”
“I can’t believe I got stuck manning this game.”
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Pokemon AU!
((So in this AU, Dwyer works in a café on one of the Alolan Islands. Before he and his family moved, they lived in the Unova Region, working in the café by the museum. Depending how a Joker/Jakob roleplayer feels, either Jakob works with Dwyer or Dwyer pretty much owns the shop. Because the café gets so busy, he gets help from his Pokémon, whether it’s be his, his father’s, or the family’s.
Dwyer’s little team consists of Rapidash (Nova, his first Pokémon) and Slakoth. Once they moved to Alola, it expands by adding in a Dartrix and Mimikyu. Joker’s team includes a Zoroark, Espeon, Minccino, and a Lopunny (again, depending on the roleplayer, this can either be his or the family’s). And the family together either owns a Rockruff or Lillipup.
So Dwyer hates participating in Pokémon battles, and only does if needed. But because Nova adores the thrill of a battle, he constantly bothers Dwyer if a tournament happens to be nearby, which was how he evolved in the first place. His father is (or was) quite knowledgeable in terms of Pokémon battles. His teachings alongside some experience, Dwyer is a surprisingly good battler (thanks, Nova!) His Slakoth contains little to no experience, however.
Dwyer makes his own Pokemon food, and could be an excellent breeder if he wanted to.))
#Reblogging from my old indie because I wanna look back on this AU but not the blog#out of tea#ferpxooc#headcanon
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@subservio
Continued from here.
An odd refusal met the boy. The woman could’ve just said she wasn’t hungry. Though, Dwyer wasn’t one to scrutinize someone’s dialect. It was not in his place to question it. Heaving a sigh through his nose, he set the plate down next to him as he settled beside the party’s other spectator. Really, it was here where the crowd was just the right distance away to observe without being dragged into the heart of the festivities.
His eyes met her briefly before they began to tail a young couple, strolling with their hands intertwined.
“It’s too loud... I’m merely here to be a servant, making sure everyone has their fill of food or whatever.”
He then focused his attention on the other beside him, “You don't seem to be here to socialize either. It’s not really my place to ask, but... what brings you to this event?”
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Forging Bonds: Gift Exchange
Send an icon to send the muse a gift. Exchange gifts with your old friends and new friends alike! Your family, your lovers, or even a stranger!
Consumable Gifts:
🍫 - Chocolates!
🍷 - Wine!
🍰 - Cake!
🥄 - A Treat! (Asker’s Choice of food)
Non-consumable Tangible Gifts:
💮 - Flowers!
💝 - A handmade gift! (Asker’s choice)
🐸 - A frog!
🗡️ - A new weapon!
💸 - Money!
💍 - Jewelry!
👕 - Clothing! (Asker’s choice)
🐶 - A Surprise Pet! (Asker’s choice of the animal)
Non-consumable Intangible Gifts:
🗨️ - “Maybe the real gifts were the friends we made along the way…”
🤗 - A hug!
🖕 - The finger!
💋 - A kiss!
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Forging Bonds: Prompting Needed!
Below are a collection of starters to get event threads started. Take your muse to visit the warmly decorated Liminal Castle, a peaceful boat ride in the clear, petal-filled waters of the neighboring river, or perhaps the outskirts of the castle, with games aplenty!
The Liminal Castle stands as the beautiful centerpiece of the festival, decorated in reds, pinks, and countless flowers. Curled ribbons hung from the ceiling of the ballroom, hearts were pinned to every wall, and balloons floated about the room. The sound sound of string music hummed dully in your ears. Food lines the walls, while friends of old and new mingle by the tables or on the dance floor. Someone approaches! What can you say…
“The town is so pretty decorated!”
“Wow, there’s so many flowers…”
“Isn’t this festival a waste of resources?”
I’ve never tried this food before, have you?”
“I’m so glad I got to spend this time with you.”
“Well aren’t you all dressed up?”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there.”
“Dancing looks fun! Don’t you want to try?”
“Sorry, I’m hiding from someone, can we just pretend to talk?”
“These flowers are all gonna be dead flowers in a week.”
Just at the river a boat ride is operating, offering to take its guests along the river. Petals decorated the surface of the water and its surface is so clear, that colorful stones can be spotted just underneath the surface. The guests, dressed for the chilly weather, are chatting eagerly on how beautiful the trees look, covered in a thin layer of powdered snow. Someone looks to you! What can you say…
“I’m freezing out here!”
“The petals look so beautiful floating along our boat. I can almost touch them.”
“Would you like a drink? It’ll warm you right up!”
“I can’t believe you talked me into this stupid boat ride.”
“What do you mean it’s too cold? I could go for a swim!”
“What do you think about when you look out at the water?”
“What are you most grateful for?”
“Pass me the paddle. You’re exhausted already. I’ll take a turn!”
“I’m glad we’re friends.”
“Have we met before? You look so familiar!”
The outskirts of the castle boast a lively competition of several games, such as archery, corn hole, soccer, and more. Many guests are rolling up their sleeves, eager to prove themselves competent! The grounds are lit with several heart-shaped lights and there’s a small amount of snow on the ground. Laughter fills the air, along with the mist of their hot breaths in the chill. Flowers that thrive in the cold decorate the tables, along with ice sculptures. Blankets are draped over open chairs. You bump into someone! What can you say…
“Care to play a game?”
“I wonder how long it took to set all these games up…”
“I challenge you to a game of your choice! I hope your ready to lose.”
“Aren’t these ice sculptures amazing?”
“Here, take a blanket. You’re shivering…”
“I just watched you win that last game! What’s your secret?”
“I can’t believe these flowers can only survive in the cold! It’s crazy!”
“Do you want to go for a walk? It’s too loud here…”
“Your nose is redder than the castle! Let’s get some hot cocoa.”
“I can’t believe I got stuck manning this game.”
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Woman:
The bystander shifted on her feet, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the situation that had surrounded her. Eliwood was a benevolent leader, well-cherished by his people. Seeing him transition from such an aggressive state to such a weakened one was frightening. She was worried for him, but more so what kind of malicious person could have afflicted the curse on such a kind soul. Finally, she acknowledged Dwyer’s question, drawing in a breath as she mentally scrambled for the location of one.
“There’s probably one around here,” She suddenly blurted, flushing lightly at her burst, “I-I mean…unfortunately there are quite a few…miscreants that have passed through the borders. Usually shops keep a Restore staff on hand just in case.” With those words, she disappeared from the main dining room and entered one of the staff-only areas. She passed by a kitchen, eventually finding a small office area for the owner of the tea house. There, leaning up against the wall, was a Restore staff. With urgency, she took it into her hands and returned to the dining area.
“Here! This one seems to be in good shape…”
Dwyer didn’t say a word, only allowing his eyes to follow the woman as she ran into the kitchen. In normal circumstances, he’d have stopped her, but the Troubadour didn’t even know what the Restore Staff even looked like. Better to have an Elibean native track one down. When she returned with the gold-colored staff, Dwyer nodded and huffed a thanks as he took the staff from her.
He paced over to the unconscious body once more. Kneeling down, he laid his Mend Staff on the floor beside him. Quickly looking over his shoulder to see how the woman was doing, she appeared out of breath from the whole ordeal. Looking back at the Lord, he clutched the staff in both hands with a tight grip. Concentrating on curing the the spell that ailed him, the red orb began to give off a faint glow. Moments later, the aura vanished. While nothing visibly changed, Dwyer had a hunch the other was cured. Returning to his feet, he turned to the woman.
“He should be fine... If you will, please return the staff to where you found it.”
After handing the Restore back to the flustered woman, he returned to his spot in front of Eliwood, picking up his Mend Staff from the floor. He had to make sure he truly was cured.
A Quiet Man’s Wrath | Eliwood & Dwyer
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Don’t forget to vote him!!!!
https://vote3.campaigns.fire-emblem-heroes.com/series/112/heroes/112044/voted?locale=en-US
#mirror (self)#out of tea#ferpxooc#hear hear!#put Dwyer in Heroes IS#you cowards#reblogging for the art#but I 200% agree with the caption#dwyer’s ready to kick some ass
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Silas:
starter for @sonofanohrian!
“I’m glad that you’re still here,” Silas whispers under his breath, fingers carefully brushing underneath tiny, delicate white blooms. Krackenburg keeps a small garden, a fresh patch of greenery mostly sustained by magic, pleasantly contrasting the dark heavy bricks and towering walls of the castle. Edelweiss grows here, almost as well as they grew back in the Northern Fortress. Silas smiles to himself as he stands up again, warm and fuzzy from the memories that return to his mind. Reminiscing the past distracts him from noticing the two heavy riding boots in his path. Silas is knocked out of his reverie as he stumbles over them.
Silas looks down to the boots, then to their owner. Dwyer?! “H-hey, what are you doing?” He kneels down for a closer look–just asleep, thank the gods, and breathing fine. Finding Dwyer’s corpse in the garden would have been extraordinarily awkward to explain to Jakob. Not that sleeping on the job was much better, either. Jakob lamented about Dwyer’s lethargy before (“laziness” was the word he used, now that Silas thinks about it), but that was during the campaign. Silas would have fallen asleep in the middle of the day if he could, and he couldn’t bring himself to blame Dwyer at the time.
Now, with peace in all three realms, that excuse won’t fly anymore.
“Come on, Dwyer, get up.” Silas tries patting Dwyer’s cheeks vigorously, hoping it rouses the troubadour out of his nap. “You can’t sleep on the job. You’ve had all night to get your rest.”
Castle Krakenburg wasn’t a place Dwyer could say he was familiar with, but it was where his father resided for most of his life. Though, now with Corrin ruling over Valla, the Vallite Castle was where Jakob stayed, him remaining by Corrin’s side out of upmost loyalty. Dwyer usually stayed at the Villite Castle as well, out of a similar reason to his father.
During the repair of the three countries, Corrin asked of King Xander to hold a negotiation between the three countries at Castle Krakenburg to decide how each should go about helping each country, and each other. And wherever Corrin goes, so does Jakob, and furthermore, Dwyer.
A couple days pass since their arrival, and both Jakob and Dwyer integrated themselves among the rest of the Nohrian servants, assisting with the work load. Dwyer spent the past few days within the castle walls. Work in general was something he was only fond of if he could work at his own pace, and luckily, because of the castle’s size, he didn’t run into his father very often. However, now he was called to do some work in the courtyards. Dwyer grumbled at the harsh tone he was presented with by another servant. His mood sullied, he reluctantly sauntered to the gardens.
The sight of the tiny blooms eased the Butler’s mind some, for this sort of sight was quite rare in Nohr. Dwyer wasn’t usually much of a sedimental young man, but he can appreciate beauty on the occasion. Still exhausted, but more relaxed, Dwyer managed to complete a partial amount of his task before retreating to a nearby tree to doze. He’ll pick up the rest later, lest someone finishes for him. Either way, he considered this his break. If he was lucky, he could return to the kitchens to make coffee later.
His nap was short-lived, for he awoke to swift claps against his cheeks. Instinctively batting at the arms of the intruder, Dwyer let out a long yawn with a stretch of his legs. Eyes half open to see the figure of a man in dark armor. Based on how less loud and forceful he was with his voice, this man couldn’t be his father. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his vision cleared to see Silas kneeling before him.
“Muh...?! Oh, it’s you... You’re not here on my father’s behalf, are you...?”
milk coffee
#thanks! Never done a post revelations thread yet#so this should be interesting#thread: milk coffee#silas support#fe14#nohrianlance
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Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have
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Nohrian Plunder||Open
Nohr, a land whose culture Dwyer grew up with, while being born elsewhere. However, it was always the answer he gave if one were to ask where he was from. Taking a shopping trip to Windmire, everything had an air of familiarity. Sure, he had shopped there before, but even his first time at Nohr’s capital held something Dwyer could recognize that made the experience almost feel as though he had returned to his Deeprealm.
The streets were relatively barran. Not surprising, as most of the shops were below ground, but what was above ground was what Dwyer came for, anyway. Upon purchasing some ingredients for meals and coffee beans, he loaded his items onto his steed Nova. He heaved a sigh, ready to return to camp.
Suddenly, he heard shouts. Nohrian thieves came rushing by, clutching several bags in their arms. At this point, he had mounted his steed, and while he'd prefer to let someone else take care of something that wasn't his business, he figured he might as well. If he got lucky, maybe someone could help him.
#open starter#ferpxopen#fe14#can't really post or trim replies since I'm not home#plus the power's out
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devotedscarletknight:
The quiet that had fallen between them was anything but peaceful. There was something ominous in the atmosphere of the now empty tea house, which had begun littered with scattered furniture, dishes, and other items as a result of the freshly concluded brawl. It was only the sound of labored breathing that broke the silence, derived from both the lord and the troubadour. An uncomfortable expression was written on Eliwood’s unconscious face, which slightly glowed from perspiration. His eyebrows twitched, drawing inward and relaxing without pattern, as if he were dreaming.
Like a shadow forming the darkness, a malicious aura slowly began to creep from the lord’s body. Scarlet tendrils seemed to lick his skin, attempting to rouse him to fight once more. It was clear through the malicious aura and shape that it was a very dark magic, one that could easily warp the mind of its victim. It was consuming, violent, and dangerous.
Despite the madness and confusion, an innocent remained in the tea house, and had witnessed the fight firsthand. When the violence had quelled, she decided it was an opportunity to raise her concerns.
“Excuse me. I’ve seen this ailment before. It is the result of a Berserk curse. The only method of healing is a Restore staff.” She explained to the exhausted troubadour.
Crouching in front of the unconscious Lord once his Staff was in hand, Dwyer examined the damage done. Cuts and bruises, he noticed, and scars from past battles too. The only fresh wounds were minor, hardly needing medical attention. He wasn’t even bleeding. Dwyer surmised those bruises would hurt the next morning. He’d have to apologize for that, assuming the sudden assault wasn’t of the Lord’s intention.
Standing with a sigh, he almost didn’t notice the woman who remained in the mostly abandoned building. He only realized her presence when her voiced reached his ears.
Berserk? Restore? Not once had Dwyer heard of such spells or staves. Must be something neither Nohr nor Hoshido had or knew of. With the only possessing Staff he had on his person being a Mend, there wasn’t much he could do.
“Restore? Is there any way I can get one?”
A Quiet Man’s Wrath | Eliwood & Dwyer
#fe14#devotedscarletknight#eliwood support#thread: a quiet man’s wrath#hope you don't mind me changing recover to restore since those are two separate staves
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Inigo:
“Well, we could always use more healers around here if you decide to stay.” Inigo offered. Now that he thought about it, the Shepherds really only had three or four skillful healers. The ratio of healers to the rest of the army was probably one to five if you counted Libra as a soldier. “Surely Lissa and Maribelle would be happy to help you further your skills if you wanted to.”
“We’re still a ways from the castle but this path is closed to most civilians. Typically it’s occupied by visiting nobles or the castle occupants running out to town so we shouldn’t have a crowd problem.” Inigo said as they approached the outskirts of town.
The toll gate was just up ahead. Inigo lead Dwyer through, waving at the guards as he passed. The young mercenary went into town so often that the guards eventually stopped asking him to state his purpose.
“So where did you say you were from?” he asked.
“I’d be glad to offer my service to you and your friends, but I’m a much better servant than healer.”
As competitive as Dwyer was with his father, which carried over to his overall mentality, his pride regarding his servitude clouded any sort of confidence in himself as a healer. He was fully willing to accept his shortcoming regarding such.
All that was left of the crowd was a faraway buzz of human interaction that Dwyer almost failed to pick up. They were ways away from the general public. Thank the gods, but was he even allowed to be here? He didn’t have the time to ask as Inigo moved over to pass through the toll gate, casually greeting the guards as he passed by. Remaining silent, averting his gaze from the soldiers, the Troubadour lightly whipped the reins. Nova’s walk became a slow trot.
Dwyer’s eyes fell back to Inigo upon his next question. Taking a deep breath, he was ready to half-answer his question.
“Not of this country nor continent. I’d rather not get into the details.”
The Dashing Foreigner | Dwyer
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Soldier:
“Right!”
Forsyth hooked his arms underneath Dwyer’s knees, hoisting him up onto his back in one swift, certain movement. He was surprisingly light - there really wasn’t much of him - and he made quick work of getting back onto the path.
(After all, he was somewhat of an expert at this - gods knew how many times he’d done it to Python).
After handing Dwyer his lance, he set off down the dirt road, the cleric’s staff clinking against his armour as he ran. “This is more like it!” he cried between breaths, feeling the wind rush against his face. “We’ll catch up with the Deliverance in no time, don’t you think?”
Dwyer was surprised with how the other lifted him with such ease. He knew he wasn’t particularly heavy, but the Soldier hoisted the Troubadour to his back as though Dwyer was something lighter. Had he done this before? With a younger sibling, perhaps?
Dwyer’s lingering discomfort kep him alert, taking the offered lance without a second thought or hesitation. Wanting to keep a firm enough grip, Dwyer instinctively wrapped his arms around the other’s chest, just beneath the collarbones as both of his hands were full. His head was so unnervingly close to the back of the Soldier’s head, Dwyer could faintly smell sweat. Biting his lower lip, he couldn’t fathom how the other was seemingly enjoying himself.
His attention raised at the other’s question.
“Depends... Where are we headed?”
On the March [Forsyth & Dwyer]
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✨ Dwyer stimboard ✨
Credit: [x][x][x]✨[x][x][x]✨[x][x][x]
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Inigo:
Inigo lead them through the alleyways in silence for a bit. It was hard do grasp the young man’s personality. The only thing he could pick out seemed to be distrust, the rest was shrouded in mystery.
When the noise of the crowds was farther away, Inigo tried to start up a conversation. He at least had to know Dwyer’s alignment before he introduced him to the rest of the Shepherd’s. Inigo was surprised that they let himself stay which meant their moral standards had to be low.
“So Dwyer… you say you’re a butler and yet you wield a staff. Are you proficient in healing as well?” he asked trying to ease some tension.
Nova was smart for a horse. Even if his master didn’t urge him, he could follow the desired company. As Dwyer rested his eyes to allow everything in his current situation to sink in, the steed followed behind Inigo, even taking a turn after he did. With a heavy sigh from the Troubadour, he relaxed as the commotion of the streets died down as the three distanced themselves further.
Snapping his attention back to the Mercenary upon hearing his name, Dwyer took a moment to process the question. Rubbing his ever tired eyes, he rested his Staff atop his lap with a continued, weaker grip.
“Hm? Well, I wouldn’t call myself proficient as a healer, but it’s a part of my job, so I know how it works.”
The Dashing Foreigner | Dwyer
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