@rinnahtheskinchanger / rinnahtheskinchanger.tumblr.com
the chonky skag pup returns
Sometimes i think about this chonky skag and how rin would totally have one in a b/orderl/ands universe. He would be name Brutus, and eventually grow up to be like Dukino's mom, but would be a smol chonker for a while
🏆 This is the Amazing Person Award 🏆 ✨💛 Once you are given this award you are supposed to paste it in the ask of eight different people, who, in your opinion, deserve it. If you break the chain nothing will happen, but it is sweet to know someone thinks you're amazing inside and out 💛
You're being way too nice to someone who's been so absent on here, hun, but I'm really grateful for it!
I writing evil or nearly evil characters more fun than writing good guys. I’m sick of feeling like people are going to judge me for my characters. I have a right to rp what I want and explain my characters actions, but not try to justify them. Because I know why a character acts a certain way doesn’t mean I think they are excused. The world isn’t black and white.
Guys i can't lie i've been OBSESSED with s/hiny hunting (and t/era r/aids) 🥲
Oh big boy. Ohhhhhh big boy. Oh big booooooy. Oh biiiiig booooooy
the sexy girlbots are returning. nature is healing
It's like when they reintroduced wolves to yellowstone
YOU CALL THIS HEALING?!? I'M UNDER FUCKING SIEGE
{ PSA }
I am willing to rewrite threads. Want to make our muses kiss for the first time but we’ve been there done that? Let’s do it again. Want to make your muse say this to my muse, but we’ve already been down that route? Do it again. I don’t care if we completely follow the same plot as before or we change bits and pieces of it. I really just enjoy writing with you!
i swear i just keep popping on and doing posts saying why i haven't been so active.
....it's p/okemon this time lol (and i will respond if messaged directly, just have trouble being active and starting up myself)
You’re my present this year.
Y'all need to STOP
Merry Christmas y’all
when someone makes a post about befriending or being kind to weird scary creatures or mythical beasts and someone comments on it like ‘wow you’d totally die’… does it feel good to reinforce the ancient barriers of monstrosity? do you enjoy snarkily commenting on the concept of rewriting a myth from pain to kindness. do you want nobody to have a monster to hang out with. you sad asshole
squash— are there any traditions you participate in during this time of year?
Rinnah scratched at the back of her neck, "Hoooooo boy! I have a few of them, and some a little more embarrassing than others."
She brought her hands up, using one to count along the fingers of the other.
"Baking is the main one. I bake somewhat regularly as I can, but I make sure I have time during the Fall. My father and I each have quite a sweet tooth. He taught me how to bake all sorts of treats, and pies are certainly some of my favorites."
"Knitting, if I have the time and supplies. Mostly and evening or rainy day type thing, since I like to get as much of the crisp air as possible."
"I also, if staying in place for the season...that actually has the season, decorate my lodgings. Specifically, with squashes if I can get them. All manner of gourds. All different colored pumpkins!"
Rinnah grinned sheepishly, "I might go a bit far with the gourd-hoarding. But I make sure they're never wasted! Even if I have to distribute them among the farmers to feed to the pigs."
"The last, and probably the one people judge me for the most..."
She covered her face with her hands, blushing to the tips of her ears, before moving to grip the front of her shirt.
"Leaf piles. I can't resist leaf piles. Even if I have to make them myself! And then I just run full speed and leap into them in my wolf form." Rinnah huffed, "A little more acceptable for a canine than a 'young lady'."
please link this post somewhere where people can see the original :-)
—————— ♡
pumpkin— how do you feel about horror movies? do you like psychological thrillers more or jump-scare oriented movies?
sweater— what is your favorite autumn dessert?
equinox— what do you want written on your gravestone? why? (wrong answers only)
cider— do you dress up for halloween? if not, what do you do on halloween instead?
bonfire— what is your favorite autumn activity? e.g.) pumpkin carving, festivals, ect.
leaves— if you were in the zombie apocalypse, what would be your weapon of choice?
full moon— what is your favorite candy? why?
orange— do you prefer to stay indoors on halloween or do you enjoy attending parties?
squash— are there any traditions you participate in during this time of year?
quilt— in your opinion, how old is too old to go trick-or-treating?
october— what is your favorite autumn-themed scent, if any? e.g.) marshmallows, pumpkin spice, ect.
amber— how do you prefer to spend a rainy day?
jack-o-lantern— do you get scared easily? why or why not?
flannel— do you prefer sweaters, hoodies, cardigans, or zip-up jackets?
firewood— have you ever played with a ouija board?
apparition— do you believe in ghosts? why or why not?
thrill—if you were in a horror movie, would you be the first to die, the comic relief, the skeptic, the smart one, the last one standing, or the killer?
pinecone— what's the scariest horror game you've ever played?
rainy— what's your favorite scary book or movie? why?
zipper— what has been your favorite costume, if any? do you have any costumes or cosplays you're looking forward to in the future?
My type is miserable old men. Poor little meows meows if you will. I'm a connosiir, a collector. Each day I aquire a new miserable old man and I sexualize him
“They brought it here for their scholars to study. So they say.” He remembers the sight of the Wayfarer laid upon a massive wagon, pulled down the city streets by a troop of horses. The denizens of Bastion gawked at the spectacle, undoubtably impressed by such a feat. To Wolfram, the scene struck him as a funeral procession. “The truth: They did it –did this—“ He gestures towards the dying tree, “—to prove that they could.” Wolfram shakes his head. “That is why they keep it here. To do anything else would serve as an admission of their failure.” He’s spoken over much, he realizes. So few might hear his ruminations over things past and things lost and do so without passing judgement. His is a tenuous position and one protected by the sanctity of his reputation; he cannot show his cards so readily. An excuse: Rinnah is a stranger; she has no inkling as to who Wolfram is. There is little to gain or lose here and in that, there is comfort. Melancholy settles between them like an unwelcome ghost. Wolfram is at fault for summoning it. He cannot fault her for wanting an escape. “Yes – I’ll lead you out.” Wolfram turns towards the exit but waits for her to join him before heading in its direction. As they walk, he wrestles with his own discomfort. A piece of him is unmoored. Sad and lonely, she’d said. He thinks then, of his husband – a thing torn from whatever land he calls home, whittling away his time however he might with none but the servants to keep him company. There is no love between them but Wolfram grapples with the urge to see him, to return to their estate, and to lay eyes upon Ambrose, to sink his teeth into the familiarity of the man’s presence and to not let go until the gloom brought on by nostalgia passes. He will not allow it; he will bury himself in work, instead. They reach the massive arched doorway leading from the garden grounds. Wolfram lingers there and offers, “Do not dwell on it.” On the tree, on its eventual end so far from home. “In death, there will be a homecoming.” The peculiar pale of his eyes meets Rinnah’s gaze. “Keep well, Rinnah. And do try and stop making a fool of our guards.” There and gone, the shadow of a smile.
------------- Time Skip --------------
It had been a few days since she’d been caught trespassing, and she was itching to go back. There was no thrill for her, in breaking the rules, nor in the success of stealth. Honestly, most of the urge was a need to have grass beneath her feet...and perhaps see that man again. She hadn’t even gotten his name, after all, and there was just something about him. Wasn’t human, that was for sure, but that was as much as she could tell.
So, Rinnah came up with an idea. Not the brightest, but it was certainly interesting. And hopefully, should she meet that gruff stranger again, he might see some humor in it. Also, it wouldn’t exactly hurt considering that she’d never promised not to go back.
Upon reaching outer wall of the gardens, Rinnah carefully moved about the shadows, hood pulled up. It was a bit easier to move, with her bag stored safely away at the inn. She watched the movements of the guards, and eventually found the perfect opening to slip through the doors. Her ears twitched slightly as her gaze raked over the green expanse.
No one yet.
Rinnah had soon worked her way towards the center, again, though this time she remained off of the island. The length of leather that had been slung over her shoulder was pulled into her hands, and they worked them into a circle, buckling it to the right size. Rinnah then slipped it back over her head, set to hang from her neck. One might even liken the look to a collar...though it was much larger than one would usually see.
After one more observation of her surroundings, she decided to change. It was a quick process, form almost rippling as her body transitioned into that of a massive wolf. That in and of itself would worry just about anyone, but with the collar? And the ability to act with such a friendly disposition? She couldn’t pretend to be a dog at that size, but she could present herself as a tamed beast.
Rinnah padded forward to the edge of the bank and laid down on the soft grass. Her paws fell over the edge, nearly touching the water. She could enjoy the sound of trickling water and rustling leaves for a time, gaze fixed on the tree in the across the water. With a heavy, canine sigh, Rinnah rested her head down onto her forelegs.
She speaks, he listens. Wolfram looks away from Rinnah the moment he realizes that, no, she isn’t Misthavian. He was a fool for entertaining the notion. Hope withers and grows silent. He pays little heed to the ache left in its absence. She is a traveler, he learns, and though Wolfram is given to suspicion, her candid demeanor sees her admission ring true. Best to escort her from the garden grounds, he thinks, best to give her a stern warning and continue on with his day. Sad and lonely. He scoffs and, bizarrely, his mouth twitches as if to smile. The gesture never quite finds its footing. “It is that, I suppose.” He looks to where the bark upon the Wayfarer’s trunk has atrophied and begun to deteriorate. The attendants are diligent in their efforts in keeping the tree presentable, but there is no disguising its ailing state. “They’ve tried many times in the past to house one of these specimens. Each attempt met with failure.” Wolfram finds himself in a nostalgic mood. His hope met a swift end and yet he is compelled to chase its memory. He’ll offer the story of the tree; it will be hope’s epitaph. “You cannot grow these trees from seeds, you see. They must be uprooted and brought here. It’s quite the ordeal – I’m sure you can imagine.” Though the presence of the Wayfarer grants Wolfram a semblance of peace, he cannot deny the wrongness of it being there at all. “This one,” he says, “comes from Misthaven – a land far, far to the North, beyond the Umbral Sea.” He pauses to draw in a breath, to taste the air of Bastion, so different than the crisp, mist-laden atmosphere of his homeland. “The answer, they found, was in the soil.” He gestures to the ground they stand on. “This, too, is from Misthaven.” Wolfram directs his attention onto Rinnah. Again, he takes note of her silver hair. Sad and lonely, she’d said. He still wants to laugh. He refrains and spares them both from an ugly, bitter sound. “They tricked the tree into thinking this was its home and for a time, it worked.” For a time. “And now…this garden will serve as its mausoleum.” A thread of wistfulness winds through his chest. “Sad and lonely,” he repeats. “It is that.”
He spoke now, and much more than she expected. This tree was important to him...and perhaps this Misthaven, as well. Rinnah had traveled to many places, but that did not mean she knew of every place on the map. Actually, a more apt thing to say is that her kind didn’t even make maps; much less use them.
“It would seem,” she said softly, “That you cannot uproot and bring them here, either. They aren’t meant to be here, and no amount of care can change that fact. The soil was an aid, but only temporarily.”
Rinnah eyed him curiously, having noticed the way his gaze almost seemed searching as it fell upon her hair. There were so many things that he could be thinking as he looked at her. Perhaps she reminded him of someone, or even something of his past.
“Why keep it here, then? If you are so sure that the tree won’t make it? Why not return it home, and allow it to flourish?”
She looked at the tree once more. Rinnah knew what it was like, being so far from home; a land that was nothing like your own. That would be enough to make anyone...anything wither away. A familiar, hollow aching grew in chest. There was no home for her to return to. No family. All she could do was keep wandering, and try to find something to ease that ache.
Lest she begin withering away. too.
“What I wouldn’t give...” to go home. Rinnah cleared her throat and turned back to him, dredging up a half-hearted smile, “You’d probably rather get me out of your hair, yeah? I’d be much obliged if you would be willing to escort me out...unless you’d rather I sneak past the guards again.”
Got my second ever commission of Rin!!! Done by the amazing @astraeons!
Commission for @rinnahtheskinchanger!
AMAZING COMMISSION OF THE RINNAH-MON ROLL BY FROSTIEARTS!!!
