im pretty sure i’ve been steadily losing followers.
8,) I’m still here you guys. I just.. don’t have anything to reply to atm..???
Fenris didn’t much appreciate the flirting that Quinn seemed insistent on doing. It was bad enough that he got it not only from Hawke, but from Isabela most of the time - and alright, he may have appreciated it just a little from those that he called his friends - and so the added efforts from a stranger didn’t rank very high on the list of things that he wanted to happen regularly.“And you have no friends that you can converse with?” He questioned, which may have been slightly rude, but he was beyond caring about the feelings of people that happened to fixate their attentions on him. If he did that, he’d never get anything done, and he’d never get any time to himself.
Quinn was still talking, still sat there thinking that he any business at the table, and Fenris’ frustration was building. It would be easy enough to just scare him off, the elf was sure of that, but another thought struck him…Perhaps he should humor the warden a little. Make like he was going to continue a civil conversation. Of course, it wouldn’t be just that. No, if Fenris could get him to leave by freaking him out a little, then that would really be a bonus, wouldn’t it? Perhaps he could have a little fun with it.
“If you insist upon making conversation, then why should I try and stop you?” He leaned back in his chair a little, grip tightening around the wine glass in his hand as he finally gave Quinn a once over. “My name is Fenris,” he started, “and I have no need of a drink just yet.” There was a moment’s pause as he thought back to earlier on in the conversation. “You are Quinn, am I correct?”
A prickly one, he was. Not like that deterred Quinn very much. As for the well thought out plan devised by one Fenris, it may or may not work. Only time would tell. Though, honestly, if he knew who he was, then there was a slight lack in judgement if he thought he could freak him out. You don’t end a Blight with a low tolerance for ‘scary’ or ‘freaky’ things.
Nevertheless, only time would tell.
The barmaid came around with his drink, to which he gave a friendly nod and took it with thanks. He took a slow drink as the other commented on his lack of friends to converse with. Quinn rolled his eyes at the kindly worded question, setting his drink down and shrugging at the other elf.
“What, and miss this perfect opportunity to get to know a stranger?”
He stayed quiet as Fenris introduced himself, busying himself with taking another small drink. He brought his lips away from the mug, examining the ale as if it were a wonder to behold.
“Hmm, well that’s just fine. More coin to stay in my pockets.” He made an offhand comment, raising a brow at the final question. Well alright then. Quinn gave a slight tilt of his head, side eying the other man.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Fenris.” He had put his mug down and turned more to face the elf. “And yes, you are correct. Quinn Surana, in the flesh.” He gave a small flourish of his hands. “What gave me away: my darling freckles? Lush hair? Dreamy demeanor?” He listed off some random qualities, adding silly adjectives to the beginnings.
He doesn’t have one, per se. He’s very indecisive about whether he believes in a higher power or not. On one hand, why shouldn’t there be. On another, they are some cruel bastards.
Quinn tries to stick with the elven pantheon.
This is, what he wears..?
A sort of mix between the standard archer/mage Warden outfit. I’m not sure what to say about ‘rituals’ around how he dresses.
He kind of just takes his days in stride, so there aren’t really any definite, set in stone rituals. If you count contemplating getting out of bed/waking up each morning, then there’s that.
Being as Quinn is on the go and or alone most of the time, I don’t think ‘the kitchen’ would be preoccupied. But hypothetically, he’d probably just squeeze his way in, one way or another.
The usual. What to do tomorrow, that guy he saw earlier had a cute butt, golly is he homesick, and gosh life is tiring. Same old same old.
He hadn’t been in Ferelden for very long.
Before heading to his final destination, Orzammar, he had made a stop at Denerim. More or less to enjoy a nice few weeks of relaxation before leaving for the mountains. It also had been some time since he was last in the city. Or in Ferelden at all. He was most definitely homesick by now.
Quinn was in a rather chipper mood when leaving the Alienage that afternoon. It would seem as though it was going pretty well for the Alienage elves; or at least as well as it could, he supposed.
He stopped outside of the marketplace, taking a deep breath and stretching his arms a bit. The night was still young, yet he couldn’t really think of much else to do right now. It wasn’t like he really had anyone to visit around here. No shopping to be done, no ‘needs’ to be taken care of.
In the end, though, a walk was just as nice of an activity as any other. It beat going right back to the inn and sleeping the rest of the day away. With that in mind, he set about on wandering.
Read More
