#Oh this was a good one Heniareth! Loved doing this

[layalu]

9 People You Want to Know Better

Got tagged by @lasatfat! :]

Three ships: Gonna pass this one cos all that come to mind are OC ships fdjsdfjklsjf

First ship: Oh man, good question x'D Sandstorm and Firestar maybe?? I don't think i was actively shipping them but i i do remember loving their dynamic lots and little me not having the (then) usual "I Don't Like Them On Principle Because Ew Romance" reaction to them

Last song: Someone outside was playing Everytime We Touch real loud

Last movie: Rewatched Puss in Boots: The Last Wish with my family last week c:

Currently reading: Slowly making my way through The Stolen Throne! Also picked up a really well cared for and pretty copy of Black Beauty 2nd hand recently so i'm re-reading that too

Currently watching: Still very very slowly watching M9 xd Also started two different Dragon Age LPs i put on as background noise now and then

Currently eating: Bread chips :)

Currently craving: Colder weather 😩

Tagging: @inquisimer @midmorninggrey @thatwinglessthing @heniareth @queenbol-of-baldurs-gate @cao-the-dreamer @drakonovisny @nomouthtospeakof and anyone else who'd like! c:

blank template under the cut:

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Three ships:

First ship:

Last song:

Last movie:

Currently reading:

Currently watching:

Currently eating:

Currently craving:

Tagging:

[shivunin]

Find the Word Tag Game

Tagged by @nightwardenminthara to find ice, green, and gentle in my WIPs and post the section where they appear. Thank you! I love these games c:

In turn, I am giving the words risk, swing, and soft to @star--nymph @greypetrel @scribbledquillz @dreadfutures @bitchesofostwick @vakarians-babe @zenstrike @inquisimer @blightbear @jtownnn @ndostairlyrium @heniareth and @nightwardenminthara again (if you'd like!) and anyone else who'd like to do this c:

Ice

From my post-romance Act 2 fic. Across every fandom and every WIP, this is the only appearance of ice lol:

After a moment, she felt cool metal against her arm and opened her eyes. He’d offered his canteen, which was good. Her mouth still felt dry and cottony. Maria took a sip, grimaced at the temperature, and blew ice over the rim. The second sip was cool and refreshing, enough to chase away the lingering taste of yesterday evening in her mouth.

Green

From the Hawke in the Fade fic. 10 points if you know who this is:

The woman came closer, and it hurt Merrill’s heart to see the elegant wave of green at her cheeks, the delicate line of branches that stretched across her forehead. It had been a very long time since she’d spoken to another Dalish elf. A very, very long time, and it felt exponentially longer with every day that passed.

Gentle

From a Tav thing (in which she gets taken down in combat for once):

“Oh,” she said once more, voice soft with wonder, and one gentle thumb stroked Astarion’s cheekbone.  “My Lord. You have called me home at last.” “Well,” Shadowheart said, the syllable dragging out. “Not quite yet, I’m afraid.” Tav blinked. One might have said her face fell, but it didn’t. It settled into its more usual abstracted expression instead, all the joy fading from her at once like a candle pinched to darkness.  “Of course not,” she said. Her hand fell from his cheek, replaced by cold, and turned away from them. “Silly of me.”

[greypetrel]

WIP Whenever

Tagged again by @shivunin and @daggerbeanart, thank you very much! I'm on holiday right now, so I'm a little bit slow and working traditionally but...

I found an Art Nouveau piece and thought that oh look that's Radha. And redrawn it on my sketchbook. And coloured it with watercolours. I have... A love/hate relationship with watercolours, but I haven't brought any markers with me this year to force myself to use them more. And since it's been a while since I've been wanting to do a couple set in Art Nouveau style with her and Aisling... Here. Your muse of Writing and History, Prophet's Laurel all around and PURPLE. The paper is blotchy and not the right one, don't mind that, OOPS.

DadWolf going on, page 5. This page has been... Something that picked me a little off the ground. I'll speak about it more when it won't come out as terribly sad and sappy. I'm looking at those bookshelves and shivering at the idea of colouring them, for now.

Not Dragon Age related, and I'll hope you'll forgive me... But yeah. I am a sucker for trash movies, and John Wick is... It's a trash movie with a lot of money and Keanu Reeves and I love the saga. The sketch on the left was drawn... I think in 2017 when I first saw the first movie and snickered a lot because in Russian he's nicknamed "Baba Yaga"... Which isn't really the boogeyman. It's an old witch that lives in the woods in Slavic folklore, in a tiny hut with chicken legs. And travels on a cauldron. I kept the chicken legs as a reference to the hut. But well I fount the sketch and thought to redraw it. Adding the dog because the dog is VERY important.

Writing-wise I'm a little slow at the moment, but here's a piece from Monster Fic that I don't know if I'll keep. The night right after the Arbor Wilds, Aisling got back, managed to quarrel awfully with Cassandra AND Cullen. Everyone is miserable.

Tagging: @transprincecaspian @zenstrike @scribbledquillz @heniareth @herearedragons @oxygenforthewicked @layalu and YOU who are reading this!

---

Abelas told her she shouldn’t really roam on her own in the Temple, particularly at night. The complex was built on the side of a cliff that opened on more forest down below, with gentle hills and mountains in the background facing west. In some places, where balconies had been long ago, the balaustrade had long fallen, leaving just openings on nothing: the incautious visitor could all too easily fall to their death.

But she was left with very little to do, after unloading Little Brother and setting up a camp in the big atrium for them… Four. Because it ended up that one of the Templars gave in for good, and didn’t really feel like going out. Not with the whole of the Inquisition army ready to jump on him. No one there could really disagree, and since the man -George, a burly man in his fourties, with a ruddy face that spoke of many laughters and evenings spent drinking with friends and eyes that still sparkled even if they were heavily rimmed in red- had been so quick in lowering his sword and yielding…

Aisling had given him one of the cots that were packed on her horse, insisted when he tried to say that no, that was hers, and just… Curled around her saddle, using it as a pillow and rolling herself in a blanket side by side with Radha, and allowed herself to cry.

Except, no tears came forth.

She was grateful of being there, and opening her eyes, looking at remnants of a past long gone, something that every First would have killed to find. Something that poor Taven actually died to find. It’s huge, it’s been kept in wondrous state… And it’s inhabited. It’s inhabited, and she has the way to ask to her heart’s content.

And yet, all she can think of is that the Herald of Andraste would be up in a camp on the top of a hill, after a round of greetings and congratulations with the Empress, the Marquise of the Dales and all the nobles they rallied to the help. After that, she would have pretended to retire in her tent and slipped right out to slowly reach and sneak in the Commander’s one, and sleep curled against his warm frame, caressed by hands that were always cold, held and safe and loved.

And yet, she’s just Aisling, a Dalish mage that touched the wrong artifact and now has gained a unique ability, the mask has been left in her tent up the hill, and she feels giddy from both the sensation of having stood up for herself and the idea of all that she wants to ask to the elves there and explore and learn there. At the same time, tho, the giddiness is chased around by regret, the slimy feeling of being ignoring responsibilities, that she should be up there and doing her job, that she let everyone down. Nobody who stopped in the Temple was happy: Radha is angry because Morrigan drank from the Well, and both Aisling and Solas stopped her when Aisling turned down the chance. Solas is in one of his moods and hurt from Radha being angry.

Her heart beats too fast, her thoughts are too quick: she knows she won’t be sleeping any time soon, unless she does something. So, she lets go of the saddle, quietly slips out of the blanket and leaves on tip-toes, bringing the blanket with her and careful not to wake her sister up.

She saw the old balcony on her way to the baths, and even if there’s no more an old elven guide and the corridors are dark, she can find her way back with ease. The moon is shining up above between the canopies, and the corridors are large, easy to follow. She could maybe activate the magical lanterns that glows very dimly hanging from the ceilings, but on a second thought, she doesn’t know where the other elves sleep, here, and she doesn’t want to risk waking someone up and having to explain why exactly she’s walking around on her own. “I miss my boyfriend, but he believes I am the elven tool of the big plan of a deity I don’t believe in and so I can’t sleep” sounds too pitiful, and who knows whether they’ll approve of her being with a human.

She takes a couple of wrong turns, confused in the darkness, but in the end she finds the place she was looking for. The old pavement is broken, but bathed in moonlight, and even with the plenilune the stars are still shining, more than she can count. It’s beautiful and it’s terribly lonely, and Aisling wonders who was the last person that leaned into that balcony to see stars and enjoy the view. How many centuries passed, what were they thinking.

She curls in a corner, draping the blanket around her shoulders as she leans over the wall. One leg gets bent under the opposite knee, the other foot dwindling in the void. There’s a waterfall roaring nearby, an owl screeches somewhere in the distance, and a choir of crickets are there to lull her to sleep. The breeze is chilly, in spite of the day having been hot enough. It’s a perfect summer evening, and the stars are twinkling and she is not pretending anymore to be someone she isn’t, and she is alone.

Tears stars to fall, because she is not pretending to be someone or something that she isn’t, and the result is that she is alone. And Mythal, it feels like emerging from underwater, but keeping her breath has been so good and warm that she really thinks she could stay underwater forever.

It’s just tiredness making her think that way, she knows -she knows herself well-, the hour is very late and the day has been incredibly long, the choice she had to make a hard one, and one she doesn’t think was the right one. It’s everything, and it’s nothing, and she will feel a little better in the morning.

She lets the crickets and the owl lull her to sleep.

[scribbledquillz]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by the lovely @melisusthewee and @jellydishes to share a peak at my current draft, which I am always glad for the excuse to do. Thank you both for thinking of me! 😊

I'll tag back - with the usual caveat of no pressure - @jinakadaisy , @rakshadow , @heniareth , @wild-houseplant , @shivunin and @siriskulksnerding as well as anyone else who wants in. Tag me, loves!

“Oh? Have we come to this already?” Zevran asked as Sten strode away. Fresh blood welled from the tear in his lips, bright crimson staining his mouth as he gave a throaty chuckle. “I thought we would eventually of course, it was only inevitable. But I must admit I did not expect you to wish to have me alone quite so soon. I’m flattered, but you do not seem to be the sort to enjoy an audience. Not that I mind, if that is what-”

Revka spun on her heel, a flash of metal whipped with the hand at her belt up to the man’s throat. She pressed the flat side of the throwing knife flush to his skin, its bite bringing a welcome end to the chatter. For a heartbeat’s time she saw real surprise in Zevran’s face, brows leaping over amber eyes as they gave a wide, slow blink. But it vanished as quickly as it came, fading back beneath a cooler, harder gaze he cast down on her along with a smirk. He kept silent at least, and Revka forced herself to be content with the quiet, glowering back up at him while she staved off the urge to punch him in the jaw a second time.

“Only going to say this once,” she growled, fist tightening around the knife as it pressed a needle’s width further into his throat. “Won’t be any second chances. One wrong move, one hint you’re up to some shit meant to see us dead, I swear on my Mam’s pyre I’ll cut your throat myself. Clear?”

His mouth twitched, faint lines pulling at the corners of his eyes. 

“Is that a promise?” A single bead of blood slipped along the edge of Revka’s knife. “Yes, yes,” he said with a dry sigh, “we are well understood, I assure you.”

“Good.” 

[wild-houseplant]

WIP Wednesday

It’s Wednesday, right? Somewhere, if not here?

It’s been a while since I dove into any of that stuff, so I thought I’d show a little bit of the story of Tank (Hawke, Rhodri’s older cousin). I haven’t a clue who tagged me last in their WIPs, apologies, so I’ll just nab a few of ya :D @heniareth , @strixgirl , @ollifree , @siriskulksnerding , @badartxd , @scribbledquillz , @atypicalacademic . If your name isn’t here, it’s been written in invisible ink (you’re still tagged, please show me your things I love them @D@ )

Without further ado, I present Tank and Screwy the Mabari (feat. cousin Rhodri!), replete with Australian dialect, as absolutely nobody but my dickhead self intended UuU

§

In the toothless heat of the Fereldan summer afternoon, Tancred Hawke shoves their sleeves back up their arms and feels more satisfied than they will for exactly one year. 

They've been washing Carver's things since mid-morning. Their fingers are icy and waterlogged, and the creek bed they're doing the wash in is nearly dry, but they've decided it's a good day and that's the end of it.

Screw's close by, more than earning her namesake as she damn near bores a hole in the ground chasing her tail. She twists and winds her way over to where Tank's working. Whenever she draws too close, Tank startles her out of her whirlwind with a bark, laughs like a fool, and then plasters a kiss on her head, and the dog feels forgiven enough to start up again. Spin-bark-kiss. Spin-bark-kiss.

Once the last shirt's scrubbed to Mother's impossible standards, Tank rises with the basket of wet clothes on their hip. There’s barely a hip to rest it on, but it’ll do ‘til they’re home. 

"Screw? Screwy. Can y’-?" They freeze as the spinning dog nearly knocks into their knees and sends the laundry every-bloody-where. "Orright, keep orbiting, then. Hang a right when you pass our house."

Screwy straightens up, watching expectantly. Tank scratches their head with a free hand and nods at the path up ahead. “You comin'?”

Screw barks. Tank chuckles. “That’d be about right.”

The fifteen-minute journey from the creek to home passes through the forest and the outskirts of Lothering. This time of the year, the birdsong is deafening, and the leaves glow like praise. No mud, no snow, and, most importantly, no hidden tree roots to stumble over. If there was a spell to draw out summer, Tank might have taken an interest in magic after all. 

On the edge of the Lothering town square, with the Chantry needling into the corner of their eye, Tank catches the gaze of a frowning, dark-haired mage, and stops dead. The frowner looks over at her; Tank’s washing basket falls to the ground. 

'R?' They thump the sign over their heart. 'R? R? R?' 

She’s gaping, lurching into a run toward them with three other people and a dog in tow. Tank's already bawling by the time they’re snatched into an embrace.

"I don't believe it," Rhodri’s voice is a whisper by their ear. "Oh, Tank. Hello."

[scribbledquillz]

WIP WHENEVER

I was tagged by @blarrghe to share this week. Thank you so much for thinking of me!

I have unfortunately not been able to get much work in on my Dragon Age WIPs lately with summer shenanigans now in full swing. BUT I have been killing it with my comic script. And if you all can forgive some unconventional script formatting, I'd love to share one of the pages I've drafted up. ☺️

For a basic rundown of how this works - each page has a header showing how many panels the comic will have. The panels have basic descriptions of the action taking place in them, as well as notes of the overall mood of the moment for the artist I'm working with to capture the emotion I intend. Each numbered blurb is a speech bubble that will appear for the listed character. SFX is for visual sound effects - think onomatopoeia.

I hope you guys like the glimpse of what I'm building! Putting it under a cut to spare the dash, as well as tags. 🥰

PAGE TWENTY-TWO - EIGHT PANELS

PANEL ONE:

We see from behind SHAE as she opens her front door. ADAM is standing on her doorstep, a softer look on his face than we’ve seen since his arrival. His hands are in his coat pockets, the quad parked next to SHAE’s truck.

1. SHAE: …Dad? 

2. ADAM: Hey, sweetheart. 

3. ADAM: Did I catch you at a bad time?

PANEL TWO:

We see SHAE from the outside of the trailer at a side angle, one hand still on the door. She is clearly surprised to see that ADAM has come here. 

4. SHAE: Oh-! No, no I… I just didn’t think you-

5. SHAE: Do you want to come in? I just made coffee.

6. ADAM: That’d be real nice. 

PANEL THREE:

The two of them have stepped inside together. SHAE is walking back to the counter where her coffee mug is waiting, along with the rest of the pot. ADAM is wiping his boots off on a rug in front of the door as he looks around the trailer. 

7. ADAM: Looks good in here, Shae. Been doing a good job keeping the place up to your Mom’s standards. 

8. SHAE: Ha, yeah… Thanks. Pretty easy once you get into the habit, I guess.

PANEL FOUR:

ADAM is now standing next to SHAE’s table, and we can see the top of it from a downward angle. His hand is resting on it beside the paperwork SHAE has stacked back into a neat pile.  

SFX (from ADAM): whistle

9. ADAM (from off panel): This all for your school?

PANEL FIVE:

SHAE, who had opened up a cabinet and was reaching for another coffee mug, is looking back at her dad from over her shoulder with her hands still raised to hold open the cupboard, the other gripping said mug. 

10. SHAE: Oh - yeah it is. 

11. SHAE: Just the financial aid stuff. 

12. ADAM (off panel): Seems like a lot just for a few classes.

13. SHAE: Yeah, I guess it is. That should be the last of it I need to finish up, though.

PANEL SIX:

SHAE is in the foreground still facing the countertop. The coffee pot is in her hand and she is looking down at the new mug as she fills it for her dad. ADAM is still looking down at the paperwork, his fingers pushing the papers to see what’s underneath despite looking only half interested. 

14. ADAM: What’d you say you were going for again?

15. SHAE: Um, well - right now just the basics. You’ve got to take some core classes no matter what you want to major in. 

16. SHAE: Redwood’s more affordable so I figured I’d do those there. Then once I’ve got some good grades on my file I’m hoping to transfer to State on scholarship. 

17. ADAM: Why would you wanna do that if Redwood is cheaper?

PANEL SEVEN:

For a moment SHAE looks dead ahead - her dad might not have meant it, but that comment stung. 

PANEL EIGHT:

SHAE sighs as she picks up the two coffee mugs, letting her dad’s comment roll off her back. Like always. 

18. SHAE: Because Redwood doesn’t have the Environmental Conservation program I want to get my degree in, Dad.  

19. ADAM (off panel): Hmmph.

20. ADAM (off panel, under breath): Woods seem to be doing just fine on their own, far as I can tell.

Tags: @heniareth , @siriskulksnerding , @rosella-writes , @melisusthewee , @greypetrel, @shivunin , @jinakadaisy and YOU!

[wild-houseplant]

WIP Wednesday

Heyooooo thank you for the tag marvellous @heniareth and consequently delighting me with the goings-on of Astala my beloved!! And, like a seagull screaming for chip, I tag you back and @bumblerhizal , @siriskulksnerding , @ollifree for a no-pressure but please give snippets if available. 8) 8) 8)

(I may have been tagged in WIPs by others but my history isn’t loading atm so if you did please consider yourself tagged as well!!)

I’ve been futzing around with all 3 DA fics of late, and I just published the latest chapter of HWWT (posting soon to a dashboard near you but AO3 is here) but I have two snippets if that’s ok, one from The Minimum Wage, and the other from Your Personal Hero. I’m hoping that by posting snippets I’ll finally get the brainwave I need to wrap up the latest chapters of each... I’ll stick ‘em under the cut!

TMW:

Zevran woke up shivering. The fact that he had actually woken at all was motivation enough to get out of bed and begin the day.

Which was good, because the knocking at the door was getting impatient.

“Honestly,” came a familiar voice from the other side of the wood, “I don’t know why you’d pretend to be dead when you knew I was– oh, SHIT, the bastard’s died of the cold!” The door flexed and rattled as the Fire Warden proceeded to hastily bash it. 

He’d be on the hook for who-knew-how-much if this woman broke his bloody door. Zevran hurried over and released the lock, stepping aside just in time for the door to burst open and the Fire Warden to scream past him in a crouch-run. She, and her armfuls of chimney sweeping supplies, finally came to a halt when she was almost at the window.

Zevran raised an eyebrow. “Dear lady,” he purred, “had I known you were so keen to see me, I would have dressed a little better, maybe found some wine for us both.” 

The Fire Warden shot him a withering look. She straightened up and smoothed out her robes. “Might you have opened the door a little sooner, too?” she enquired pointedly. “I thought you’d turned up your bloody toes on me!”

§

YPH:

“You… I do not know what you want from me,” Zevran says quietly, stiffly. 

My heart sinks. “Nothing, sweetheart.”

Irritability flickers in his eyes. “... Do you wish me to love you? Is that it?” 

“No! Well, not unless you want to.”

“And after all this? Hmm? What then? What would you have me do, once I am registered and such?”

“Dunno. Not my choice.”

“Then whose is it?” he asks impatiently.

I give Zevran a meaningful look and gesture at him. It’s like he hasn’t been listening at all. 

“Yours!” I exclaim. “You choose what you want to do in life, not me. Maybe you’ll take up a trade, or spend your days in the library. Hell, you could get a one-way ticket to the other side of the world if you want. Carve out a life of fame and riches there, and the only time I’d see you is when you appear on the news.”

He snorts. “You really believe I could do any of that, do you?”

“Ugh. I knew it was too soon to tell you.” I groan and mash my hand into my face.

[wild-houseplant]

The basics- Rhodri Amell

[id: Rhodri, a Grey Warden (physical description in post) in yellow mage robes, is standing in a Chantry with Templars in the background. She is frowning quizzically, and her mabari, Jeppe, is to her right. The dog has black kaddis on its face and body in stripes. /end id]

I got tagged by @heniareth​, who showed off the super-cool Astala Tabris, and now for my part, I bring a lengthy Rhodri information snippet. Thanks heaps for the tag, friendo! :D :D And now I will tag... @ash-soka, @m-m-m-myysurana, @rlainarin, @atypicalacademic (if you fancy? Maybe Tatiana Amell? or anyone else really; I am madly in love so very many of your OCs), @mango-mage, @icy-warden, @stylographic-blue-rhapsody​ and anyone whose name isn’t here, I still wanna see your OC, I’m just absent-minded! (or maybe a friend you haven’t met? :) ) Go ahead and tag me! :D :D

deets under the cut; this one, like everything I do about Rhod, is long.

Character’s name: Severin Rhodri Amell Callistus (Rhodri to most)

Role in story: Hero of Ferelden, Primary Dickhead (role conferred by yours truly)

Age: 20 when the First Blight begins in 9:30 Dragon 

Physical description:

Rhodri is tallish (for an AFAB who spent the last twelve years underfed), very pale, has grey eyes and short, stick-straight black hair. Her sharp, angular facial features and very muscular physique give her an intimidating and distinctly androgynous appearance. Arched brows, a grecian nose (think Fenris) and frequently forgetting to smile further compound this situation, and give her an extreme case of resting bitch face. She has long, almost spidery fingers and toes, long arms and legs, and, though her large muscles mostly conceal it now, she is slightly bow-legged.

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type:

Her MBTI type is ENFJ (though she tends to be much more joyful and flippant than the description would suggest). Similarly, her Enneagram type is Type 1- The Reformer.

Internal Life

What is their greatest fear?

After a lifetime of being reminded that she has a ridiculous amount of power over others as a Magister’s heir, along with plenty of stigma for the unintentional but fairly sizeable number of social mistakes she makes, Rhodri lives in terror of causing harm to others-- intentionally, or unintentionally.

Inner motivation:

Her sense of justice. To Rhodri, the act of making things right, maintaining goodness, preventing harm, is to show devotion and care at its highest level.

Kryptonite:

Awareness of suffering. Of others because they deserve better and she needs to fix it; and of her own, because she knows she isn’t allowed to share that sort of thing with others-- cue intensifying feelings of aloneness.

What is their misbelief about the world?

That with the right argument, everyone will be equally ready to do the right thing. I don’t think it ever really goes away properly, maybe reduces slightly to fervent hope.

Lesson they need to learn:

That perhaps not everything her father taught her was correct, even if he said it with all the conviction and good intentions he had.

What is the best thing in their life?

Her loved ones. Easy one.

What is the worst thing in their life?

Being forced to confront horrific things with the expectation that her feelings are kept hidden and take least priority. She finds that hard to cope with at times, particularly when many things that bring her comfort (various stimming things such as rocking) are frowned upon.

What do they most often look down on people for?

Insistence on maintaining unacceptable viewpoints (e.g. racism, magephobia, the idea that harassment is perfectly acceptable, being nasty to Tranquils, children, or any vulnerable person).

What makes his/her/their heart feel alive?

Combining something/someone she likes with enjoyable sensory input, e.g. watching a sunset with a glass of fruit nectar, a lively dance with a friend, rocking in a rocking chair with Zevran draped over her.

What makes them feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way?

Rhodri’s easy to please, all things considered. No need for gifts or fancy gestures; as she navigates through life, a little bit of gentleness and patience are all it takes for her heart to put down roots. All of her companions are able to do this to a degree, but not quite as well as Zevran, who is replete with both and actively wants the devotion she readily offers in return.

Top three things they value most in life?

People, knowledge, virtuousness. The rest falls into place with those things in balance (according to her).

External Life

Is there an object they can’t bear to part with and why?

The schedule Duncan wrote down for her to help her cope during the rough transition from regimented Circle life to unpredictable Grey Warden life. She keeps it for the rest of her life and has transcribed copies of it on the first page of several notebooks as a reminder of his kindness.

Describe a typical outfit for them from top to bottom:

Her hair is just long enough to sit in a ponytail, and is often done with a traditional Tevinter undercut, when she can manage it. In keeping with Tevinter standards of modesty (the more you cover, the more you have to lose), she isn’t seen outside the home (or tent/room at the inn) without a robe that covers everything but her head, hands, and toes. Eschewing expensive clothes where she can, the robe is usually simple and black (no such thing in game, unfortunately :( ), and underneath she wears comfortable clothing a plain cotton tunic and breeches. Her boots are a size too large, because tight shoes are sensory hell for her. She keeps her clothing scrupulously clean and tidy, and in good repair.

What names or nicknames have they been called throughout their life?

By her father: Severissimus (a play on her name, Severin, ‘severissimus’ means, ‘(my) most severe one.’) By any non-Tevinter: Rhodri By any Tevinter: Severin By her siblings (when they are asking her to take them for ice cream etc): Indulgeeeeeentis (used by people affectionately appealing to someone with greater authority, ‘indulgentis’ means, ‘one who indulges me.’) By Alistair: Rhod By Zevran: My Warden, Rhodri, later on: mi Rhodri (’my Rhodri’, her personal favourite), mi sol (’my sun’), amore, my love. A number of offensive names, largely by Templars and snide people. The one she takes particular umbrage to is ‘Tranquil,’ a term used in my worldstate to mock and offend autistic people, as she is firmly against the mistreatment of Tranquil mages.

What is their method of manipulation?

Nonexistent. She is firm and clear about what she wants, and if a suitable compromise isn’t reached, then she takes request elsewhere.

Describe their daily routine:

[The paper is crumpled and yellowing, torn in some corners, but folded neatly. The writing is simple but tidy.] Daily schedule for Rhodri 1. Wake up, attend to body [the writer is referring to hygiene and other self-care], get dressed. 2. Make tea, eat breakfast, discuss the day ahead. 3. Pack up camp, extinguish the fire, and begin travelling. Kill darkspawn as necessary, discuss new skills, make conversation if desired. Hydrate throughout. 4. Brief stop, attend to body, eat. 5. Continue travelling. Kill darkspawn as necessary, discuss new skills, make conversation if desired. Hydrate throughout. 6. Stop, set up camp, collect wood and light campfire, prepare and eat dinner. Review plans, discuss new skills, make conversation if desired. Pursue own interests. 7. Extinguish fire, attend to body, sleep. When we reach a town, we will stay at an inn instead of making camp. They will provide our food, and after breakfast, prior to departure, we will buy more from the market to take with us. You are welcome to ask me questions or come to me at any time of the day or night. Please tell me if you are going somewhere Adjust this as needed. You are doing very well. From Duncan

Their go-to cure for a bad day?

A solution. Finding a way to prevent a repeat of the bad things where possible, to minimise the damage of the inevitable things. That’s enough to turn her mood around, but for Ultimate Comfort to ease the fatigue away, something familiar is always welcome- e.g. an hour to spend on a special interest (usually magic), snuggling up with someone. If it’s been unspeakably bad, she’ll magic herself asleep to avoid a meltdown.

Goals

How are they dissatisfied with their life?

She hates that the life planned out for her is not moving in a linear fashion. She was meant to go to the Circle in Tevinter and live with her family there, but her magic came early and the templars in Kirkwall packed her off to Ferelden. Her mother disappeared; she was about to receive the official appointment of Enchanter in the Fereldan Circle after having been one in every other sense for years, and her transfer to the Minrathous Circle (her father pulled many strings for that) was almost ready when Jowan played on her naïveté and forced her conscription as a Warden. Rhodri was content to come into magehood in her home in Minrathous, be paired off with a nice young man when she was ready, have a brood of estimable offspring, and be the head of House Callistus, eventually representing said house as a Magister. To say there have been bumps in the path is an understatement, and secretly, she is not pleased about it.

What would bring them true happiness or contentment?

She’s pretty good at finding true happiness or contentment wherever she is, but above all, she wants to be back in Tevinter with her loved ones. The knowledge that her mother had been found alive and (quite) well would have been an enormous relief for her during the Blight, too.

What definitive step could they take to turn their dream into a reality?

I mean she could’ve just chucked in the Grey Warden  towel and fucked off home, couldn’t she. Nah, all she needs to do is keep going, get the duty stuff out of the way and get out before any more requests can be piled onto her.

How has their fear kept them from taking this action already?

No fear, just bad timing. Jowan betrayed her. The Darkspawn are bona fide dickheads, and the Archdemon even more so. Then the Darkspawn get smarter and actively plan to overrun orchards and commit murder. Her husband has to go and look death in the eye. The girl can’t get a break.

How do they feel they can accomplish their goal while still steering clear of the thing they are afraid of?

She just keeps on as she always does. Rhodri is nothing if not perseverant. How does she get the energy for it, one asks? Zevran subtly gestures at a small heap of smutty letters he has sent her before laughing it off and beginning an hour-long seminar, during which he reads off a list of her finest qualities. At the end of the session, he picks up the pile of letters and waves them indicatively, and is promptly carried out of the room by the recipient of said letters. Rhodri’s face is red. Zevran’s face is shining.

---

[wild-houseplant]

WIP Wednesday!

Well, after a few solid weeks of having absolutely nothing to offer to WIP anyday, I come bearing a snippet from quite a few chapters into HWWT. In specific, the exact moment Rhodri gets the idea she might actually fancy the man who has been shamelessly flirting with her for around half a year. CW for internalised ableism.

My thanks and apologies to @heniareth @siriskulksnerding @icylook @ollifree and @anna-the-great-and-terrible that this is soooo very delayed. On the bright side, it came out on a Wednesday! the wrong one by two weeks, but a Wednesday all the same! X) Can I tag you bunch back?? @rlainarin can I pester you for snippets friendo? @D@

The Warden beamed like she’d been the one given the gift, pushing off harder with her foot to rock herself a little quicker. Zevran bit his lip in a half-smile and shifted his newly-gloved hands to admire his gift and the giver all at once.

She had barely fallen into her new rhythm before she froze mid-sway. Her fingers tightened around her knees, foot replacing on the ground.

“Ah. Forgive me,” she mumbled, eyes dropping to the ground. “I know I’m not meant to. I just– it just happens sometimes, before I even realise I’m doing it.”

Zevran shuffled closer and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Mm? Why would you apologise for something like that, my lovely Grey Warden?”

“It’s offensive.”

“Eh? Offensive to who?”

“... Everybody.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Everybody?”

“Oh, truly?” Rhodri barked a bleak, bitter laugh that damn near stole the throat out of him. “I see the way people look at me, Zevran.”

Zevran caught the ache in his face and schooled it into a saucy grin. “How do they look at you, then?”

“They stare.”

“Mmm, I do stare at you, it’s true,” he declared airily.

“I know you do.”

He wagged his finger playfully. “Ah-ah! Not for the reason you might think. Come now, you must know you are very beautiful, Rhodri.”

“So is Morrigan. So are Alistair and Leliana. You don’t stare at them like that.”

Zevran took his lip in his teeth. “Oh? You think it’s impossible that I find you much more attractive than I do them?”

She appeared to consider this a moment. “No, I suppose not.”

“Good. In any case, you might wish to reconsider your stance on moving your body.” He squeezed her shoulder. “We are not like these uptight Fereldans, my dear. We are Northerners! Expressing ourselves is in our blood!”

Rhodri shrugged. “Not like this,” she said hollowly.

Zevran shrugged back with twice the grandeur. “Perhaps, but it would be boring if we all went about it the same way. I happen to find your way to be very enjoyable. It isn’t often people are so open with me, and it’s most refreshing.” He winked as obviously as he could manage, adding in a purr, “Charming, too.”

Her breath snagged loudly. Enough, he thanked the Maker, to cover the swell in his own chest from watching her face soften. A blush was staining her face the colour of wine, and in the process doing a damned fine job of evaporating his recollection of her months-long oblivion to his advances.

At last.

He shuffled a little closer, steadying his enthusiasm with a careful breath. “I’ve a question for you, my Warden, if I may.” 

[scribbledquillz]

I was tagged by @m-m-m-myysurana for this AO3 / fanfic author meme - thank you so much for thinking of me, my dear!

How many works do you have on AO3?

I'm currently sitting at twelve, though two of them are long fics that I've unfortunately had to abandon. I also have a one-shot that I initially thought would only be a drabble I'll most likely be posting there once it's complete, but we shall see.

What’s your total AO3 words count?

Oh man. I've never actually looked at this number until now. My total word count is 142,894. Holy cow.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Yikes. So I've only recently gotten back into writing fanfic regularly again, which means my new main work (Your Fire Burns in my Veins iffin you'd like to check it out. ;3) which I'd say is the best show of my current writing skill is not among the fics I've gotten the most kudos on. What I'm getting at is if you click on these, know I'm really glad that you're interested in them, but also wincing, lol.

1. Under The Stars - An old fluff piece from the very beginning of my infatuation with Revka and Zevran as a ship. Written as a "drabble" prompt that got out of hand fast.

2. To Conspire With an Antivan - Alas, one of the two long fics I needed to abandon, hence why I won't link to it. It had promise, but my writing and pov on so many things have grown past what I was doing in this fic, and I'd rather let it lie than try to go back in to fix it or start over.

3. Acquiescence - Ohhhhh thar be F!Hawke/Fenris angst here. I wrote this for a kink meme fill (are those still a thing? am I just showing my age here?) forever ago.

4. In Plain Sight - I've written a lot of smut in my day, but I'm only now realizing how little of it I've actually posted. Aside from needing to fix that (I'm shameless) this is one of the few that was shared - another Revka / Zevran piece pre reworking both of Revka's origin and timeline. Still plenty spicy - Zev gets some special attention behind a tapestry. *wink wink*

5. No Way Out - Ok. Look. I love zombies. And what do I love more than zombies? Writing F!Hawke and the Kirkwall crew in an apocalypse. I regret nothing.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely! I want the readers who take the time to comment to know how much their words mean to me and how big a motivator they are for me to keep writing when I doubt myself or the stories I'm telling.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Well, given that my fic where my mage Hawke is captured after the Chantry explosion and made tranquil is one of the two long fics I needed to abandon, I'd say Acquiescence would have the most angst. Though I wanted to go out of my way to show there was no bitterness or anything of the like involved at the end - more just sad acceptance. That being said the rest of my fics do (and will) continue to end with a more hopeful conclusion.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Since I haven't finished YFBimV (and won't for some time) I'd have to say it would have to be my one-shot Reassurances. It was a gift fic with an OT3 of Hawke, Fenris and Isabela, and was just such a nice, soft moment for the trio to reaffirm they're all exactly where they want to be.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I haven't as of yet, and most likely won't. It would have to be a very specific type of crossover.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Oh thank God no. I've got a thicker skin than I used to when it comes to my writing, but I'd definitely still cry like a baby.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Heh heh heh. Yeeeep. And I intend to write more. >:3 I've done mostly f/m smut, but also f/f as well.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, and ngl I think I'd be more flattered than angry if I did - not flattered enough not to report it, but still flattered.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not a fic, though the timeline of YFBimV was developed (and continues to be developed) with the help of my friend @pathosian, who was so kind as to let me borrow her Kerrigan Hawke to play Barbies with.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Zevka Zevka Zevka Zevka Zevka Zevka Zevka Zevka

But I also deeply appreciate any Zevwarden ship out there because my man deserves happiness. I also really love Fenris/Hawke (especially mage Hawke), and am getting more and more invested in Varric/Adaar as I think up my new Inquisitor. Out of DA fandom I am also an unrepentant Zuko/Katara shipper. But lbr - I love ships in general.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ahhh I mentioned them above. Some things just aren't meant to be, sadly.

What are your writing strengths?

I really feel like I do a good job at nailing down character voices. The way they speak, their body language, the expressions they tend to make, and if writing from their POV what their internal monologue tends to be in any given situation.

I also feel really confident in my ability to write highly emotional moments; describing the physical response an emotion brings out in a character, how they react internally vs how they express their reaction outward, that kind of thing. It's my favorite part of writing fic.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Ugh. Action. Not just in fight scenes (though those are a hell of a struggle) but in calmer moments too. I always second guess myself if something is too detailed or not enough when it comes to writing out how something happens.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It doesn't bother me personally. I do use it a little myself, but generally only as flavoring, or (favorite trope ahead) when a character isn't ready to give words to how they feel about something/someone and so say it in their native tongue instead. *cough* Zevran *cough* I use it pretty sparingly, though.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I'm having a sudden, violent flashback to 12 year old me giggling to myself as I write bad Harry Potter fanfic under my blankets at 1 am on a school night.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Oh gosh. I had the most fun writing No Way Out (because zombies) but is it tacky to say Your Fire Burns in my Veins? I've been shipping Revka with Zevran for aaaaaages now, and it's really satisfying to finally be putting the whole of their story to word rather than just bouncing around disjointedly in my head.

Thank you so much again for the tag, @m-m-m-myysurana, this was a lot of fun to do!

I'll go ahead and tag: @heniareth, @lorioganneb and @calebara as well as anyone else who wants to have a go at this! Please tag me, I'd love to read your answers. :3