#bxynjolf

[ariveth]

"I want to know more about you."

"WHAT — AS IN PERSONALLY?" Ariveth's shoulders quiver with a chuckle, mostly out of surprise than anything. Beyond work, she's not sure what good knowing her would do Brynjolf. She could tell him stories from the refugee settlement maybe, or the amateur botch-jobs of her kleptomanic youth, or tell him about how she enjoyed fishing in the odd months that she didn't work; but she can't imagine he'd be anything but bored to death. Besides, she doubts he'd want to hear of how often she'd paired murder with robbery in her past: she can almost see that near-invisible raised brow of auburn judgment.

"How about this: you show me yours if I show you mine." She stands, dusting off her rear and tilting her head with a lopsided grin. "Let's pop into the ol' tavern, I'll buy you a pint and we'll trade boring life stories. Deal?"

i want to know prompts!

#HI KC I MISS U ♡ #she thinks shes boring but lowkey touched he asked :') #✗ — INQUIRIES ｡ #✗ — FT. BRYNJOLF ｡ #bxynjolf

[bladedwoe]

bxynjolf asked : SALVAGE (brynjolf returning something fenced from a thief that wasn't his)

A comprehensive list of scenarios. / @bxynjolf​ -- accepting

SALVAGE :  for one muse to retrieve the other’s belongings from a thief.

      𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫, Astrid imagined it might be the so-called “Listener” returning from their contract, but the timing seemed rather… early for such completion. They were always the eager sort, but with the weather conditions and the distance, it would take a day or two for the contract to be reached. Then the contract was to be made, finalized, and carried out. That would add another day to the entire job if the Listener was quick on their feet. But when her eyes spotted the shadow of a larger figure in the hallway from the entrance, the winding steps, she assumed maybe she was in the midst of catching the thief--whoever it was--that plucked her blade of woe in the dead of night. Whoever the weasel was, she was certain he going to meet its demise here and now for their foolishness to sneak into the Sanctuary once again. 

      When the tuft of redden auburn hair was caught by her eye and then the unmissable black and buckle-littered attire of the Thieves Guild was noted, her expression softened and a small smile curled the ends of her lips. ❝ Brynjolf, it’s so lovely to see you again. ❞ It was just like Astrid to lay the charm on thick when speaking with a Thieves Guild member. Both factions served each other well in time of need and despite their differences, it was a welcome to see a new face in her den. ❝ It’s about time you left Riften and got out for a while. ❞

      Her brow raised when Brynjolf extended his hand and his fingers opened to show her the sight of her beloved dagger sparkling in the candlelight. It looked as if it was hardly touched; as if it never left the sanctuary in the first place. No scratches, or cuts, and there was no attempt at a modification. If one knew its value to steal it in the first place, they must’ve known it was best to keep it in its original form. But the question was: how much of a fool was this thief to steal from the Dark Brotherhood in the first place? Was he out for a death wish?

      She plucked the dagger from his hands and ran her finger along the helm and then to the blade to see if it was still as sharp as it once was. Her thumb ran across the teeth and as usual, the blade was sharp enough to cut a small slit in her finger pad. Perfect.

       ❝ Where did you find this? ❞ she asked, lifting her head to finally meet Brynjolf’s stare. She never suspected the Thieves Guild to have any involvement in the theft, but it was rather strange that the Guild managed to get their hands on such a treasured item. Maybe the thief was a fool, more than she already assumed he was.

#asks #bxynjolf #( 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆 ; asks (( Astrid )) #( 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 ; Astrid ) #( thanks for sending this in ! ) #( I hope this is workable but let me know if you want something else! ) #( but aaaaa excited for the two hottest bitches in skyrim to interact ) #( are we worthy? )

[bxynjolf]

|| THE BASICS ||

NAME: Brynjolf

NICKNAME(S): 'Bryn', or alternatively, 'bastard' will suffice!

AGE: 36-40 (This is verse/timeline dependent!)

SPECIES: Human / Nord

|| PERSONAL ||

MORALITY: lawful / neutral / chaotic ||| good /  gray / evil 

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Brynjolf believes in the Daedric Princes', or rather, their merits and mischief, but didn't personally pursue any faith within the Nine Divines or even the Princes prior to the Betrayal. He is now a follower of Nocturnal, albeit a rather laidback one.

VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice

PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: His primary ambition is to restore the Thieves Guild to what it was under Gallus' fair guidance. With it flourishing again, he'd then be able to extend the Thieves' influence, reconnect with old contacts, and turn his charitable recruitments into lasting returns so he too may rest.

LANGUAGES KNOWN: English (or Nord?) as well as Mer/Altmeri

SECRETS: Too many to count. It IS his trade, after all.

QUIRKS: Tapping a quill against the desk's surface in midst of thought, thumbing his Flagon as he speaks, and crossing his arms in guarded conversation are just a few! All of which he will mask depending on the context of the situation.

SAVVIES: Coercion, persuasion, or just the general 'gift of the gab'. He spins silk words to smooth over initial confrontation, then promptly employs a 'back up' to tie the knot. Is it money? Is it power---control, rather---over your situation? Or is it just this handsome smile of his?

|| PHYSICAL ||

BUILD: slender / scrawny / bony / fit / athletic / herculean / babyfat / pudgy / obese / other  \

HEIGHT: 6'2"

SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: Brynjolf is a mosaic of his hardships, and frankly, carries many, many scars from them. One of the most notable are the small slants along his fingers, a call to a snapped pick to many. There are few misplaced punctures from where, perhaps, his honeyed words failed him. Another worrying mark is the distinct arrow hole near his heart; this one is a testament of his fluctuating luck, he claims. Outside of injuries though, he has a branded tattoo of the Thieve's Guild on his right shoulder blade (his dominant side).

ABILITIES/POWERS: Being that he is a Nightingale, he typically remains as an Agent of Stealth, which allows him to slip into the shadows seamlessly. He's also very lucky.

RESTRICTIONS: Brynjolf is....complicated. He holds little to no ambition in the pursuit of power for himself, but also enjoys having his hands in all the honey pots. He loves to be the connector, the man of the people, but doesn't care to be viewed as a leader. He adores the idea of lavish luxury, even holds a needling greed for it, but will spend his last dregs into a Guild that had long since lost its profitability. Brynjolf believes himself to be greedy because he's never known stable comforts, and now that he has the memory of the Guild and what it had done to elevate him, he'll do anything to get the coin to bring it back The problem lies in the fact that his passion has become passively obsessive and his initial 'donations' to cover losses have turned to self-sacrificing. In short, he's been with the Guild so long he sees nothing but it at the end of the day. That means that if it were to go, he....doesn't know what else he'd to, let alone what he'd even have left.

|| FAVOURITES ||

FAVOURITE FOOD: Main verse would be anything with potatoes, but he has a particular fondness for chunky potato soup brimming with cheese.

FAVORITE DRINK: Mead. Ale tastes too bitter and too weak for his palate.

FAVOURITE PIZZA TOPPING: Pizza doesn’t exist tragically, but he's that man who would have all the toppings. Too many. Way, way too many.

FAVOURITE COLOR: Green! A close second is blue.

FAVOURITE MUSIC GENRE: Anything that carries a jaunty, up-beat tune.

FAVOURITE BOOK GENRE:  He can easily lose himself in hours of Snow Elves' history, records, lore, theories, etc. etc. His fascination stems from Gallus' and Mercer's vague conversations surrounding it. A good portion of it comes from the allure of forgotten treasures too, so.

FAVOURITE MOVIE GENRE: N/A

FAVOURITE SEASON: Autumn. It's the time of change. Ironically, it's telling of a dwindle in business as bodies will now be holed up in their homes, but the slight slow in contracts welcomes more time in the Flagon, more time with fellow Guild Members, and a seasonal flavor of Mead that never fails to quench his thirst.

FAVOURITE B.UTT TYPE: All of them.

FAVOURITE CURSE WORD: Why pick just one?

FAVOURITE SCENT: The smokey burn of firewood coupled with the sweet crisp of good mead.

|| FUN STUFF ||

B.OTTOM OR T.OP: Top, sure, but he does have a soft spot for a lass that knows what she wants and will make sure she gets it from him. ;)

LOUD BURPER OR SOFT BURPER: Soft burper.

SINGS IN THE SHOWER BATH: Most of the time? No. Every now and then he'll hum a soft tune to himself, but overall, bathing for him is simply a responsibility. Nothing more than a quick 'in and out' of the lake.

LIKES BAD PUNS: Of course, especially when they push others' buttons.

THEIR OPINION ON THE MUN: Neutral. This man don't give a---

TAGGED BY: @bladedwoe (thank you for this! it was a good warm-up for me for this muse <3)

TAGGING: @ all yall.

#(. #this man #this srsly is helping me get back into writing too yesss #.) #ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʀᴄᴇꜱ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ. | (ᴍᴜꜱɪɴɢꜱ) #bxynjolf

[schattenmagier]

“It isn’t safe here at this time of night.”

She hadn't noticed him. The young thief had made sure no one was around, and yet somehow she hadn't noticed that man. Either she was slacking off, or he actually was silent enough to make himself easily unnoticed. Lilli settles for the first for now. At least he hadn't caught her in trying to break into the house. He caught her five seconds before she had wanted to break in. That was just her luck.

" I think... I will be just fine, Sir. If that is what you are concerned about. "

She answered, with her usual cold voice, and no change in her face. The only thing she did was to lightly turn her head to look at Brynjolf. Or rather, eye him up. She can't really tell yet if he is a threat to her or not. But one thing was clear, while he was here, she couldn't start her little heist.

" And if it is truly so unsafe here... Why are you here? You don't look like a guard. "

Perhaps making herself seem less suspicious is a good way to get him to leave.

#bxynjolf #ask #;; ᵗʳᵃᵛᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘᶰᵏᶰᵒʷᶰ [medieval verse] #;; ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷ ᵐᵃᵍᵉ [ic]

[luckydxy]

❝ what can i do for you ? a potion , perhaps , to make someone notice you , or something to make your hair shine ? ❞

Dark Crystal : Age of Resistance ;; Accepting

"I feel at home already, thank you for that." she's mildly amused, words dripping with syrupy sarcasm as she takes in Nord & his stand both -- cute. He'd have to try harder than that, though. Born of the Imperial City, his antics were a dime a dozen to her. Do not look the charlatans in the eye, her Mother's scolding words still haunt, do no stray from your path. Dress plainly in public markets. Carry only as much coin as necessary. Refrain from boasting. &, most importantly, keep the family name to onesself ... Ara supposes that final point was of little import here. She was a stranger. Spare the occasional accusations of being a spy, Ara'd found herself free of scrutiny. It was nice. Delvin might be right, a fresh start could be a welcome thing. There'd be no point squandering such an opportunity.

"I was told to introduce myself. It's Ara. The old man sent me ahead," crumpled note was removed from breast pocket & readily handed over with seal intact, she knew better than to sneak a peek, "he's ... preoccupied," that was an understatement, "didn't want you to worry."

#;;answered #bxynjolf #NICE TRY BRYN !!! #THIS ONE HAS HALF A BRAIN #Verse pt. One ;; Shadow of Nobody There #missed you btw <3

[gvildmastcr]

@bxynjolf​: (comes back from the dead after 84 years)

my mercer muse, who has only really been active on discord:

#ᴅᴏɴ·ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ; ᴏᴏᴄ #[comes rushing in here like he hasn't been (mostly) dead for ages]

[sunxdusk]

“You shouldn’t have seen that.”

It was early, and the twisting streets of Riften were quiet. Briengr leaned against the wall of Haelga’s Bunkhouse, dark green cloak wrapped tight around him, hands wedged under his armpits. He’d been hunched there for an hour at least, steadily getting colder, breathing fog into the foggy air. The edges of his pointy ears and his nostrils tingled unpleasantly. Not as cold as The Pale but still mildly unpleasant.

It was a wonder the snot hadn’t frozen in his nose. But he could be patient. He had to be if he wanted to receive proper payment. I’ll give you a reward fit for a King if you guard my fine establishment, Haelga had told him, and like a fool, Briengr had agreed, albeit reluctantly, with only the promise of a free room, fine food, and finer company to keep him from denying her outright.

A man wheeled past a barrow heaped with straw, tuneless whistling deadened by the thinning mist, and Briengr’s sharp green eyes slid after him until he became a faint outline and was gone. By the Nine, he wished he’d brought his pipe or a drink to pass the time. He shifted his tongue in his dry mouth, trying to push the tempting thoughts out of his mind, but it was like a splinter under his thumbnail. The sharp, refreshing bite at his lungs, the taste of the golden liquid as he let it curl in his mouth, his limbs growing heavy, the world softening to a pleasurable haze as the drink worked its magic. The annoyance, the anger, the boredom all leaking away…

Footsteps clapped on wet flagstones, and a figure rose out of the gloom. Briengr stiffened, fists clenching, curiosity sparking as he watched a subtle robbery occur. Quick feet and even quicker hands made off with some passersby’s hard-earned coin. And it was to be expected; Riften was a den of Thieves.

“You shouldn’t have seen that.”

“I’ve seen worst.” Briengr chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re the trouble Haelga wants me to keep out.”

@bxynjolf

#( answered ) #I kind of floundered a bit with this ask! Let me know if you want me to change anything! #Briengr doesn't interfere with the Thieves Guild #he just likes to sit back and observe them commit crime lol

[mercyxkilling]

first meeting prompts

@bxynjolf​ said: [STEAL] - I had to do it. Also, any verse works!

when you lived this kind of life you had to find ways to quickly adapt, lest you get swept along with the current, or dragged under. no one cared if you drowned, so when you found yourself in the midst of the chaos, it was best to learn how to swim.

well...

that was a bad analogy; mercy never learned how to swim. but in this context? she was something of an expert.

you didn’t get as far as she had without a healthy dose of caution and wariness when it came to other people, and while those that worked with her would have called her paranoid, mercy didn’t really give that much of a damn. they could call her whatever they wanted. it just made her laugh harder at their expense the second she was proven right, that she wasn’t just crazy or more than a little unhinged. (so maybe she was both of those things, but whatever. she knew how to survive, and that was what mattered.)

like now, for instance. some of the men she worked with made fun of her for carrying anything of value in empty coffee cups as she walked the city’s streets. they insisted that petty thievery wasn’t as common as she seemed to think, or that given her reputation no one was going to try and take anything from her anymore anyway, but seeing as how she could feel someone trying to dig into her purse to find something worth taking, she could see that her need for caution had been justified.

still, she couldn’t say she wasn’t impressed. not only by this particular thief’s audacity, but at the skill with which he handled the bag she carried so close to her person. if she hadn’t been so acutely aware it was possible she wouldn’t have noticed him at all.

“y’know. there are better ways to make money. tryin’ to take it from me isn’t somethin’ i’d call smart.”

despite the fact that he’d tried to relieve her of her valuables, mercy didn’t seem all that angry. after all, it wasn’t like she didn’t understand the need for this kind of behavior. when she was a child she’d had to pickpocket many passersby just to provide herself the means to feed herself.

“what were ya hopin’ to get outta my bag anyway? i don’t really carry a whole lotta cash.”

#bxynjolf #meme #mercy vc: *pops up like the old school word paperclip* oh hi! i see you're trying to steal from me! would you like some help? #hope modern verse is okay with you #that's my queue!

[ariveth]

quiz: what soft romance cliche are you? result: the almost kiss

you're unsure about things, always hesitating. why is that? maybe there's something to lose for you, but maybe (just maybe) the risk is worth it. you're the moment when the main characters lean in, lips parted and almost touching. but it's not the actual kiss everyone loves, it's the anticipation. when they look into each other's eyes before their lids flutter close. and there's a lot of frustration when things are interrupted. trust me though, you're a lot more memorable than the actual kiss. you're nervous, but at the end of the day all you want is to be loved.

Tagged by: @bloedelv ty! ♡ Tagging: @austerulous @sunxdusk @generalofthenorth @dragxnsfire @eritvita @bxynjolf @ramblingsofamoonwatcher @bladedwoe​ and whoever else wants to do it, please feel free to steal it from me

#✗ — DETAILS ｡ #✗ — DEVELOPMENT ｡

[firsnotfurs]

@bxynjolf said :  ah, the guild's beloved silver skeever 💕

he’s no grey fox, but silver skeever is the next best thing.  he’ll settle for it.

#bxynjolf #OOC #C U R S E D ;; SHITPOSTING #my skeever man is under ATTACK #i log in & he is MAULED by his own FRIENDS #i wouldn't have it any other way

[bladedwoe]

bxynjolf asked : “🌺” + Okay, hear me out, Brynjolf being displaced in an alternative timeline in which DB never comes and saves the Guild, so the Betrayal happens and what was left of the Thieves Guild dissipates. Brynjolf, being like a super high priority criminal and def not wanting to get arrested, ends up trying to take Delvin up on potentially working alongside the Dark Brotherhood? Shenanigans ensue as he tries to find some footing in their organization considering his less than bloodthirsty attitude?

Send me “🌺” + a plot idea you’ve been wanting to write which you think might fit our muses. / @bxynjolf​ -- always accepting

       I don’t think I have ever mentioned how much I love the idea of The Thieves Guild & The Dark Brotherhood collaborating in interactions?? I know Delvin has had some previous ties with the Dark Brotherhood and supposedly Sapphire also has a past with them? I assume the two factions are closer than any of the other factions and the potential for new members would definitely excite Astrid. (Especially if a job requires some level of thievery and she would already know thee thieves are experts at stealth and lockpicking). I think Brynjolf and Astrid may have some back and forth because of the TG’s whole “No murder” policy, so there might be some difference there that can make exciting angst in a thread as they find some harmony with their differences. Whether this is a temporary endeavor or Brynjolf still works within the Dark Brotherhood to some extent could be interesting to see! So, yes I would be into this! We can plot more with this idea and figure out the particulars if you want to turn this into something!

#asks #bxynjolf #( ooc ) #( thanks for sending in this wonderful idea! ) #( I've been admiring your blog today when you followed me and I've also been eyeing this ask all day when I was mobile bound )

[bxynjolf]

plotted starter ! // @aelathehvntress

His deceit had been penned from the very start. A scrolled sealed with false affluence had been delivered earlier to Jorrvaskr by an urgent courier. The contents spun quite the woeful tale indeed:

A Nord, hailing from Winterhold, had been blessed with Zenithar's humble heart. For, in Zenithar's steadfast labor, his family had built an everlasting wealth against the brutal winters of his deep, beloved Northern home. They labored not for riches or for glory, but for purpose: a far more virtuous goal than any other. Skyrim did not dawdle, she did not fumble, and by the Nine, she surely would not grow lax on their behalf. Despite the original claim, their centuries of honest labor had built them a considerable wealth. Though, whenever temptation plucked their doting senses, a token served to recall generations' of reverent diligence. The heirloom's beauty had dulled over the passage of time, yet oddly, its value had soared. Fashioned originally as a meager amulet, the iron chain hung strong while a delicate stone inlay was grooved from decades worth of thumbing. What made the piece near priceless was Zenithar's verse carved in stoic contrast to the gilded anvil, the markings made by one famous priest:

"Come to me, Zenithar, for without you, like a child, I might fiddle and fret when only through struggle and labor may I craft a work worthy of your name and the name of my patron."

All that had been told was technically true. Some sorry bugger was indeed hailing from the North, and he had unfortunately lost this near and dear trinket that had allegedly sworn in centuries of trade success---

But that man was not Brynjolf.

And, that man was most certainly not the fellow that slunk his way through the shadows of Whiterun, gait silent but steadfast.

The letter had done well to craft his clever façade. It presented him as Brynjar, that sorry sod seeking to avenge the gut-ripping theft. Fortunately, his evening arrival had been conveniently excused, as he'd quoted delays due to Skyrim's wicked weather in the missive earlier. In truth, he merely wished to avoid catching Whiterun's guards during broad day. Not that he supposed they'd still have his profile plastered over the stone in those wee prison cells considering….Ah, well. The odds were they'd forgotten that little transgression by now anyways.

His letter set a mighty framework. Now, he stood to embody it. Refined leather boots were coupled with a simple, but noble merchant's tunic. He'd foregone the Thieves' pride, no longer carrying any sign of his Guild's allegiance at all by first glance. Naw, instead roguish features were framed with a thick collar of hare fur. A wool cloak was pinned to his person, aiding in rebuffing that wretched, creeping chill of winter's eve. Traditional braids kept wild locks at bay during his travels, sans the few flyaways that occasionally beckoned a blink of annoyance. He'd not shaved either. He'd opted to neaten his unkempt facial hair instead. Simply put, Brynjolf was a merchant built of Nordic tradition and generational wealth; no rosy-cheeked milkdrinker sniveling over his stolen pride would be found here. The sheathed steel at his side would ensure that. So, fixing himself a grim expression, he wrapped smartly upon the Jorrvaskr's looming door without any further ado. He'd requested their aid, and with luck, they'd answer.

#(. #O O F i am rusty #i hope this is okay!! #sorry for the length i am still desperately trying to find my footing hdjkskhdja #.) #ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. | (ɪᴄ) #aelathehvntress #bxynjolf

[wasulfhrafnx]

✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ (gimme ALL the tunes!)

send me ✥ for a song that reminds me of our muses // accepting 

from eden – hozier 

is this real ? – lisa hall

hypnos – chelsea wolfe 

aang laga de — ram leela

still here – digital daggers

color of blood – chelsea wolfe

jason feat. nikki flores – the midnight

keep the streets empty for me – fever ray

lahu muh lag gaya – ram leela (  this entire scene ok, im weak. )

#bxynjolf #`` still here is definitely my number one go to for these two #but i often hear songs and think of bryn #i think about bryn all the time #lets be real but -- #jason is one of those songs #especially in his modern verse

[mxxnblind]

@bxynjolf replied to your post ;; 

they have to be separated as adults otherwise their power level is Too Much

au where all three of them are straight up nightingales 

#whenever they do come together it's an Event & one of them ends up w/ a warrant #last time it was glover #bxynjolf #;;ooc #all the guards gotta call quits now -- just toss in the towel #i'm joking but i'm also not #agent of strife robyn #agent of subterfuge glover #agent of stealth delvin #the unlucky trinity rifp

[luckydxy]

missing piece. falling asleep somewhere that isn’t their bed. ;; ( okay, hear me out, alt way of ara first meeting Bryn is when he chills with Delvin late one night discussing business and he just kinda passed out because he's Super Overworked, hardly eats right, and is smarmy stress 25/7 and delvin maybe being a good lad just like....let's him rest bc lbr Mercer usually needs something of him always and Bryn never says no and then BOOM ya gurl ?? finds ya man?? )

rest prompts ;; accepting 

@bxynjolf

Delvin’s ‘office’ was more of a private nook, hidden further in the underbelly of the cistern, one the young Imperial could only image he had stubbornly claimed for his own long ago.  Being so snuggly tucked away from the rabble, she really couldn’t blame him.  It was a quiet escape & served as a sort of ram-shack archive …  One she was grateful to find solace in whenever communal living proved a little much. 

She wasn’t the only one.  Ara stands in the doorway, tucking her gifted copy of the key back into its pocket, wondering for a fleeting moment if the old man had really crashed right there.  After another blink she notes the head of hair.  Oh.  Glancing over her shoulder, she peeks to see if Delvin was still lurking nearby.  Not seeing the codger anywhere she begins to fret, but steps silently into the room nonetheless.  Nudging the door shut oh so gently behind her as she readjusted the load in her arms.  Journals & scrolls – plans for future locks.  Not to be picked, but created.  Frowning, she approaches the table.  The only table.  She winces, hovering behind him curiously as he sat half sprawled across the wood grain, he was going to be sore sleeping at that angle.

Tiptoeing around she’s grateful there was, at least, a pair of chairs.  Pulling the spare out for herself she carefully sets up, peeping up to the sleeping Nord in time with every other of his breaths.  She’d be here & gone — he wouldn’t notice if she took a ten minute breather as he caught up on some well deserved sleep.  Not if she didn’t make even a squeak.  Not if she watched her step.  But maybe that train of scrolls rolling across the table, once distracted by her work, could put a damper on her plans. 

#bxynjolf #;;asks #Verse pt. one ;; Shadow of Nobody There #ara : where is .... the Bald One #look at her go --- trying so hard not to wake him up #but a l a s -- meet ur future treasurer in training bryn #confused locksmith stuck in skyrim after selling her mama out to the guild #to be fair delvin helped a gal out & she kept him from getting toasted or poisoned so --- it was a team effort

[gvildmastcr]

     Stares at Delvin and Brynjolf.

     Looks into the camera like he’s on “The Office.”

#sᴏ ɪᴛ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ; ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ #dash comm #bxynjolf #firsnotfurs #[i LITERALLY logged into mercer just for this]