#also this one needs so much editing so hope everybody enjoys rough cuts of stuff lol

[perexcri]

this month is crazy rn and i'm probably gonna be less active on here in the meantime for lots of reasons, but have another corn maze fic snippet for @bylerween2023 as a treat :'D probably won't have another snippet until october~

[sadiecoocoo]

The Shadows are Coming Chp. 3

Summary - Tech learns more about the sickness, Wrecker goes to find his brothers

Word Count - 2226

Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Notes: Happy spooky everybody!!! here's some eerie zombie stuff for you :) I am still going to be posting once a month, sadly I haven't worked on this fic much since the last chapter... Attack on Titan has me a in a chokehold, but that can be good news if you like aot and want a nice gory fic for it soon >:) also I didn't bother editing this chp... so sorry for any errors lol anyways, hope you enjoy!

Tech motioned for Wrecker to lay Echo out on the medical table. The brute gently placed the ARC down, resting his hand on his shoulder before pulling away to give Tech room to work. The splicer immediately got out a medical scanner and checked Echo’s vitals.

He held back a curse, not wanting to alarm Wrecker more than he already was. His brother was strong, but Tech didn’t want to test his limits. Echo was semi-conscious now, his eyes open and blinking as he tried to regain comprehension. Tech much preferred him being asleep, it might have been slowing the sickness. 

He seemed to be recovering for the moment though, Tech would guess that soon enough he would be coherent again. The virus seemed to attack in waves then, each one leaving the host weaker and weaker until it could fully take hold.

He needed to get a sample. He started searching the med-bay, looking for both supplies and any hidden troopers waiting for an opportunity to attack. Their intelligence was astounding, not at all like the zombies that Wrecker continued to insist they were.

Twice now they had waited until they could catch the Batch off guard before they struck. They used the dark to conceal themselves and fell into almost complete silence, similar to a wild tooka when hunting. They were even capable of speech, meaning they retained some humanity despite their now murderous nature. And the focus on forcing other troopers’ helmets off rather than simply killing them is uncannily intelligent.

All of these things showed that there was still something human in those troopers. Maybe that bit of sentience could be awakened again. There was a real possibility of a cure. He just needed the time to make it.

“Wrecker,” Tech cut in, breaking the somber silence that had fallen upon the two. “Please seal the door.” He asked. Sealing it would buy him more time in case the troopers that had yet to attack decided they didn’t want to wait anymore.

“What about the others?” Wrecker asked frantically. Tech suppressed a flinch. He turned back to his brother, fighting for something to say. He let out a rough sigh.

“I have no doubts that they will be alright, however I think I can manage here without you if it would make you feel better to go help them.” He said placatingly. Wrecker seemed to have perked up at that. Tech watched as the bruiser’s head turned from the door then to Echo, who was now sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asked softly. Tech knew that no matter where Wrecker went, he would worry. However, he was not worried about himself, and knew their brothers would need help to make it to this med-bay.

“Yes, you would be most useful going to help Hunter and Crosshair.” Tech assured. He turned away towards one of the counters, opening a cabinet above to search for decent enough supplies.

“Stay safe.” Wrecker said quickly, then Tech heard the swooshing of the door being shut. He released another sigh, hoping that his brothers really would be alright. He knew they could all handle themselves, but if they got infected and he didn’t make the cure in time, there was no amount of combat skills to beat that.

Tech turned to look for an IV. He wasn’t sure what Echo would need, but coming from the nosebleed he had been having, a blood transplant would be useful. He grabbed the stand and rolled it over to Echo’s bed, then went back to look for fluids.

In one cabinet, there was an unruly pile of blood bags. He grabbed several, and started a scan to be sure the virus hadn’t breached the seals. He frowned at the results. All had traces of the virus, and all would only serve to make Echo worse.

As he continued to search the medical room for any samples that the medics should have collected (there was no telling how incompetent these regs would be), he tried to talk to Echo. He really didn’t say anything meaningful, just random facts or things he’d noticed about the base. He just needed to keep Echo coherent.

Sometimes the reg would hum in response, others he would agree and mumble something else he had noticed about the troopers. He seemed to be coming down from his moment of confusion, Tech chose to see that as a good thing.

Both of them had noticed the trooper’s intelligence. Both had agreed that their use of speech seemed to be to lure people in a trap, and that they mainly communicated using the animalistic snarling they had heard before.

“I dunno if you saw it, but the trooper I had pinned before had pale eyes,” He paused, mouth open as he fought for the right words, “like they were dead.” Echo finished with a numb and haunted tone. Tech paused, pressing his lips into a thin line. Echo sounded so tired, it had barely been half an hour, how could a virus have taken hold of their reg so quickly.

Tech didn’t answer for several moments, instead focusing on the samples he had finally been able to find. There was a datapad next to the sealed vials, and Tech powered it up to go over the files that the regs had hopefully written down.

He skimmed over the aurebesh text, not too happy with his findings.

[0500, morning cycle] A new virus has been found in the base, orders were given to keep our buckets on and quarantine ourselves unless showing symptoms. The base was sealed to prevent it from infecting wildlife and further spreading.

- Nash

[0745, morning cycle]  Several troopers have been checking into the infirmary, I have my hands full. Half of my medics are sick too, I’ve confined them and any others showing symptoms to bed rest. Current symptoms include: fever, dizziness, nausea, struggle of breath, slowing heartbeat, excessive nosebleed. Some had rashes on their skin, almost as if the cells were dying; the ones experiencing these symptoms seem to be dealing the worst.

Someone tried to escape the base, the captain got pissed and ordered all the ships to be dismantled. It was probably overkill, but this virus could be fatal, we can’t let it spread.

- Nash

[1030, morning cycle] There’s not a free bed in the infirmary, I’ve had to run from here to the barracks several times. There are only a few troopers not infected, thankfully myself included. Flay, Grim, Jax, and Skeet are the only others that I’m aware of.

- Nash

[1200, afternoon cycle] Some seem to be recovering now, many are regaining their strength. Physical symptoms are waning, but the infected are under a lot of mental strain. I suspect some may be hallucinating or having fever dreams often. Many seem much less aware of their surroundings and are acting almost violent. It seems to be a final affect of the disease, the ones that had gotten through it seem to have recovered, though they are tired. I think everyone should recover soon.

- Nash

[1300, afternoon cycle] I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. They’re all dead. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I thought they were getting better I thought I fixed it I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

- Nash

Tech skipped the rest of the log. It was just those two words repeated over and over again. He moved on to the next.

[1310, afternoon cycle] they got up. They just got up. Oh Force they aren’t the same. There’s something wrong. Those aren’t my brothers.

- Nash

[2300, night cycle] we were able to get a quick transmission out before retreating back here. Grim didn’t make it. There’s only four of us left now. They’re at the door. It won’t hold long. We’re going to try hiding in the vents until help arrives. I’ve left samples of the virus, along with the rest of my notes. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it. I just hope whoever finds this will have enough time.

- Nash

Tech was unable to continue reading. He felt sick to his stomach. Within hours, they all died, then came back wrong. He turned back towards Echo, then shut his eyes tightly. Now wasn’t the time to worry, he needed to get this cure made.

But if an entire team of troopers couldn’t get it in time, how could he? He was one person, no matter how smart he was. He might have to redo everything that Nash had done and start from scratch.

He worried his lip, breaking the skin. He didn’t have time to panic and doubt his abilities, Echo needed him now. Tech practiced the breathing exercises he had taught Echo so long ago, to help with the times when he was back there. The splicer never thought he’d be needing them himself.

When he thought he was stable enough to do so, he finished searching the cabinet where he found the datapad. As stated in one of Nash’s logs, a plethora of samples were in a neat container. They contained blood samples, air quality samples, and skin tissue samples.

 He could work with this. He could do this. Tech quickly got them set up to several different machinery to test what kills them. He frowned as he thought how long that might take. At least he wouldn’t have to be present for most of it, and Nash’s findings were still there.

“Hey, Tech?” He jumped at Echo’s call. The splicer turned quickly to give the ARC his attention.

“Yes?”

“It’ll be okay.” Tesh wished he hadn’t said that. He wished he could believe that.

The door opened with a hiss.

Wrecker didn’t think he had ever ran as fast as he was now in his entire life. He was filled with more urgency than any other battlefield had given him. His brothers needed him, he needed to hurry.

He still couldn’t hear any blaster fire, and now he couldn’t even see any signs of the zombies. Tech had said something about them being smart, smart like an animal is, and Wrecker knew Tech was almost always right.

He knew the forest got quiet when there was a predator nearby; Echo had done his utmost to teach Wrecker strategy and taught him the basics like this first. The zombies were the predators, so why were they quiet now. He urged himself to think, to not just focus on barreling through the hallways.

Predators got quiet when they hunt, but if they’re in packs they chase their prey down until they got tired and could finish them off. Hunters in packs wouldn’t focus on stealth, like how the Batch usually ran in blasting unless specifically told not to. So who told the zombies to hide?

He turned a corner, tensing in case something would jump from behind. He was met with silence and shadows. Still shadows, like the water of a pond. Right now, nothing but Wrecker disturbed the water.

He slowed, the paranoia and unease getting to him. He couldn’t hear the zombies, and he couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there. He knew they could see him. So why weren’t they attacking? He was alone. He was easy prey if they outnumbered him enough. So why leave him alone?

Unless they wanted him to get to his brothers. Or to lead him away from something. Or towards something.

Wrecker brought his hand up to the side of his helmet, trying to comms for the millionth time. It was met with an irritating static. It wasn’t the kind of static where the comms weren’t working, it was the kind where the person on the other end wasn’t answering. He suppressed the urge to groan in anger. Now was one of those times where he needed to be quiet.

He was once again stumped on what to do. He wanted to find Hunter and Crosshair, to make sure they were okay. He knew deep down they would be, when those two worked together it was like fighting the force of a god, but he couldn’t help but worry.

He also wanted to go back to Tech. He had left his other brothers practically defenseless. Tech would be distracted while working on the cure and Echo… Echo wouldn’t be able to defend himself.

Kark, why was it so difficult to decide on things? Why couldn’t the answer just be handed to him, like they always were for Tech or Hunter, or really any of his brothers? Why did he have to be the one alone?

A sob built in his throat, and he clamped his mouth shut. He would not panic. He’s been alone on mission hundreds of times before, this wasn’t any different. Except in the ways that it was very different. Other than that, it was exactly the same!

He would go find his brothers, just to make sure they were okay. After that, he could bring them all to where Tech and Echo were, then they’d get the cure, and then they’d leave. That was only, like, four things. He could do this. They’d all be okay.

He jumped in place for a moment, hyping himself up to keep running, then he dashed down the dark halls.

The shadows weren’t as still anymore.

End Notes: so... any new theories on who's gonna be a zombie first, if any at all? also sorta sorry for the almost cliffhanger with this one lol, next one will have lots more gore :D

Next Chp.

NPT: @squad-724 @arctrooper69 @weyrwolfen @clownery-and-fuckery @charlieisannoying

@greyangelpain @zilvercrystal @travellingnorthwards @lifblogs @electrikworm

@buniby @thora-sniper @restrospect1003 @dizzy-9906

[heniareth]

I was really curious about what your opinions on the DAO companions are :) I know we have talked about some, but I'd love to hear more and about the others as well :D I hope it's ok to pose this as an ask :)

Sure! That sounds like a ton of fun. This might be a long one tho. Mind you, this is not the finished version of the answer. I'd like to link stuff and add a cut, but rn that's not possible. I'll update it when I can.

Edit: I have updated it ^^

Let's go alphabetically bc why not.

Alistair:

Sweet guy. So sweet. There was a moment when I was hard pressed chosing between him and Zevran (alas, Zevran won). Also, he's weirdly tall according to the wiki? How did I not notice that before?

Let's get a bit more serious now, Alistair is a great guy. The only reason he's not the hero of the story is because he doesn't want to. He has all the qualities of a leader: he's good at dealing with conflict (as evident with the conversation with the mage at the beginning. He gets where he wants to get without antagonizing the mage, but without allowing him to trample all over him). He's a solid tactitian and knows how to make allies (he suggests to use the Grey Warden treaties, after all). I bet if he was in the leadership position, he'd even not bicker with Morrigan. His moral code is pretty tight; some might say too tight, but I think it's less about the moral code and more about learning to judge people by their actions, not by the labels they fit into (Morrigan is a proud apostate and therefore bad. Wynne is a humble circle mage and therefore good). He also has a bit of a black-and-white way of seeing the world. I empathize a lot with Alistair, especially with his experience with the Chantry and his subsequent reluctance to deal with it. I really wish I had gotten to know more about concrete experiences he had during his training as templar, but he seems reluctant to talk about it (gee, I wonder why).

Since I've only played the game once, I haven't really picked up on Arl Eamon's abuse towards him, which apparently exists (Isolde, however... I mean, even if he were Eamon's illegitimate son, he's a kid, ma'am, he didn't exactly get to chose his parents. So that's so not okay). Alistair's way of speaking about them both, however, is either sign that he has not come within a hundred miles of acknowledging how much it hurt him, or that he's already gone through the whole process and has decided to forgive them. The latter shows a very strong character; yes, he relies on the approval and leadership of others, he has his issues, but he's already started working on them.

That being said, irl Alistair would be like a little brother to me. I'd tease him relentlessly (all in good fun and I promise to stop if it makes him uncomfortable, but he's just so teasable). I still wish the videogame gave him the chance to take important decisions for himself. But that, of course, would somewhat defeat the point of the game.

Leliana:

Another sweet, sweet person. Her singing voice is amazing. Her belief in the Maker inspires me (I'm a religious person and seeing religious characters represented in a positive light is Very Cool. It's also sometimes a source of discomfort, because the Church has done a lot of very messed up stuff and positive representation can sometimes veer into apologetics for things that should not be excused, but that's a whole other can of worms. The bottom line is that religious characters sometimes work for me and other times don't and Leliana works for me very much bc she's an outsider inside the Chantry).

Leliana is best friend material, tbh. I'd love to get to know her irl, discuss theology and philosophy and maybe even politics? She makes mistakes and has prejudices, but, tbh, so do I. And I do get the feeling that she tries her best to learn. From the times she intervenes in a conversation between the Warden and an NPC, she shows herself to be compassionate and open to the needs of others. What I get from her character is that she genuinely wants to help, which is something that I adore of her. I suspect that she sometimes has a hard time deciding wether she's a good person or not. She has killed and seduced and worked for a morally dubious person, and she doesn't show the same nonchalance about it as Zevran (though they both do discuss their line of work in very... professional terms). This is, however, more of a headcanon than actual factual canon.

I also very much enjoy her girly side, like her interest in shoes and dresses. She's one badass woman who also looses her cool about the latest fashions in Val Royeaux. I like that. Between her and Alistair, a non human noble Warden has as good a help to navigate the Fereldan court as they're going to get. Leliana is also, I can't forget that, clever and insightful. It'd be easy to write her off as the innocent chantry girl, but she's so much more than that. Her kindness is paired with foresight, I think. She knows that taking on the trouble to help now can go a long way in the future. I just have a lot of respect for her.

Loghain:

This one's gonna be short bc I didn't recruit him. He's an amazing villain and would probably be a great Warden as well. He reminds me of Denerhor from LOTR; once a hero/stewart of his people, ambition and desperation have driven them both down a terrible path. I have also only little idea about his past. People say he lost a lot, and I believe it wholeheartedly; it doesn't excuse the fact that he plunged the country into a civil war in the middle of a Blight. I don't have a lot of sympathy for short-sighted politicians. I wish he hadn't made himself regent. That's what I take away from his character.

Edit: One thing I forgot to mention that really impressed me was his death. I had Alistair duel him (that was a rough duel), and then it kinda just jumped to a cutscene of my Warden nodding and Alistair executing him. That didn't sit well with me. I didn't want to kill Loghain, and less so in front of Anora. But what impressed me was that Loghain just accepted it. That takes a whole lot of guts. Compare that to Howe's death, and how he screams out that he deserved (more, probably, or anything but death) and it's crystal clear who the more noble of the two is. Loghain strikes me as very lawful neutral, and any neutral alignment has the particularity that it can be dragged towards good or bad, sometimes without the characters noticing it (which is interesting from a DnD perspective; neutral is often concieved of as just as stable as good or evil, but that may not be true. But that's a different post). Anyway, Loghain's death was impactful.

Morrigan:

I could kick myself for not maxing out her approval in the first play-through. I got to enjoy a bit of her friendship by the end of it and boy was even that little bit worth it. Friendship with Morrigan is something that is hard-won. It's all the more precious because of that.

Morrigan is full of paradoxes, I think. She's incredibly wise in some ways, yet also very short-sighted (”just kill them, don't solve their problems”. Morrigan, dear, I'm not going to gain a lot of allies if I kill everybody who poses a problem to me). She is so intelligent, but emotionally... not so. She knows so much about some things, and very little about the next. She's incredibly wilful and knows what she wants, but follows Flemeth's orders all the time through. She hungers for power and independence, yet craves closeness, but won't allow herself to have it. She asks you to prove yourself to her and is extremely critical of your actions, I think, because she's afraid. She bites the hand that feeds her because it might hit her next.

Like with Eamon, I haven't managed to catch the undercurrent of abuse that seems to permeate Flemeth's relationship with Morrigan. Except there are signs, because there must be something Morrigan is scared of and who has instilled all that rage in her, and that's Flemeth. Also, she clearly hates/does not care about her and wants her dead (unless killing Flemeth was part of Flemeth's plan as well? Hm.)

Morrigan is that one person who you are nice to, continuously, because nobody else is. And suddenly she becomes less cold. And then friendly. And suddenly you're asking yourself why everybody hates her, because she's a really good friend! I just wish the other companions came to a similar conclusion, especially Alistair and Wynne.

Oghren:

They did this man dirty. He has such great lines and I'm convinced he was a great person before Branka disappeared. He has that dwarven warrior spirit, and while he looks like Gimli, some of his most impactful lines remind me of Dwalin or even Thorin Oakenshield himself. He could be so noble had he gotten some character development, damnit!

Oghren as he is written is somewhat disgusting. I hate the lechering comments and the drunkenness. And still, I don't hate him because of those amazing lines he has when he's actually sober. It's frustrating and I'll give him that character development myself if the game won't. I strongly associate the song Whiskey Lullaby with him, bc that's how he would have ended up if the Warden hadn't taken him along (warning: the song talks about suicide and alcoholism). Like I said, they could have done such cool things with his character. As he is written now... it's just sad. Moments of lucidity drowned in alcohol and creepy jokes. As you can see, I don't blame the character for either. The alcoholism happens all too often irl. The creepy jokes... I put that one on the writers' tab.

I actually think Oghren could have been a great mentor figure (I know, I shock myself as well sometimes). Next to the Grey Wardens, the ones who know most about fighting darkspawn are the dwarves because they have to deal with them constantly. Especially a warrior caste dwarf like Oghren could have brought a lot of that invaluable knowledge to the team, especially since there are no Grey Wardens in Ferelden but two extremely green recruits. Next, you get the chance to give Oghren the command of the teammates you leave behind in the battle of Denerim with the reason that he has lead men into battle before. Where did that suddenly come from? Oghren should have been right up there telling my Warden that they were doing this wrong, that they needed more food (and booze) and a confident leader to keep the armies they've called together going. Oghren should have been able to tell my civilian city elf who got recruited into the Grey Wardens a six months ago how one leads an army. How one presents oneself to inspire confidence, how one doesn't crack under the pressure, how one gets the leaders of said armies (some who hate each others guts i.e. Dalish elves and humans) to work together. And, last but not least, Oghren could have had a great story about grief. This is a man who has lost most of what made him (and what he hasn't lost he's spilling down the drain with every mug of ale). This is a man who, if you take him into the Deep Roads, has to see what his wife did to his family, how his wife got absolutely obsessed, and can be forced to kill said wife or watch her die. All Wardens loose their home and families at the start of the story. It would really have rounded the whole narrative out if the Warden and Oghren could have recognised their grief in each other and hashed it out somehow. Such as it is, Oghren is a depressed drunkard and there is nothing we can do about that. I find that frustrating.

Rascal (a.k.a. Dog):

Best boy. 100/10. I wish we had gotten to see the reaction of the different origins to the mabari (because elves probably have a whole different experience with them from mages or humans. And dwarves just... I think they straight up have none? XD). Other than that, no complaints. The name Rascal was the one I gave my dog because you have to be a right rascal to survive what he did and play the pranks he plays. Smartest breed in the world indeed.

Shale:

Shale is one of those characters that I recruited rather late in the game, so I haven't had the chance to explore their personality and worldview, really. I didn't even get to take them to the Deep Roads (this will be ammended in playthrough nr. 2). As such, I don't have particularly strong opinions on them (or her? The wiki refers to Shale as 'it', but that sounds weird). But, because I know so little about Shale, I have a lot of questions. First, what were they like before they were a golem? Shayle, as she was called then, was the best warrior of her time if I remember correctly. Why did she become a golem? Was it to be able to eternally protect her people? Was the sarcasm the golem Shale exhibits also part of the dwarven warrior Shayle or did that come later (if for thirty years you have nobody to talk to but yourself, you better be entertaining. And I can imagine how it could make somebody terribly jaded as well).

Next, how attached is Shale to their golem form, exactly? According to the banter, they infinitely prefer it to a squishy fleshy form. If that is the case, however, why go to Tevinter to try and become a squishy dwarf again? It's not like that process could be reversed if they wanted to become a golem again; if Shale survives to the end of the game, the Anvil of the Void is destroyed and Caridin is dead. Was the whole spiel about their indestructible form a façade? It might have been, but not because Shale actually disliked their form. I think it would have more to do with the loss of their memories and with the very invasive experiments and alterations of Shale's body made by the mage Wilhelm. The loss of memories means that Shale is unable to remember life as a fleshy creature. They might be deflecting by pretending that they didn't care for that experience anyway because of the superiority of their golem form. The modifications made to their form by Wilhelm would have alienated them from their body. In light of this, it's significant that Shale asks the Warden to decorate their form with crystals.

All of this is, of course, pure speculation. I may have easily missed or forgotten details that would disprove the above thoughts. All in all, I like Shale and I hope we meet them again in DA4 (given that it's mostly set in Tevinter). It's a liking from a respectful distance, because Shale is tall and made out of rock and also way more experienced than I will ever be (they are literally the oldest member of the Warden's little Blight fighting squad).

Sten:

Sten is another person I'd keep a respectful distance from physically. That seems to be the what he would prefer, at least. I've enjoyed his character a lot, especially because he seems pretty clear-cut at first, but slowly lets the nuance of his person show (gruff and stoic, but then he has an eye for art, a sweet tooth and he likes cute animals). It's also very interesting that there's no moment when you learn "the truth" about him the way you do with Zevran or Leliana. There's no big reveal about his life under the Qun before coming to Ferelden. He says he was sent to monitor the Blight, but honestly? If neither Ferelden nor Orlais knew there was a Blight, how could the Qunari know? I think he's lying, and he takes his secrets back with him when he leaves Ferelden. And yet I think I know him enough to say that a Warden who has become friends with him has nothing to fear from Sten.

One thing I find very interesting about Sten is how he thinks. His conversation about how women can't be soldiers has been analysed a lot on this page I think. He seems to be arguing based on a different paradigma than the one the Warden has. He also seems to have a very clear-cut view of the world. What is fascinating to me is that, when arguing with the Warden and learning about their culture, he is not necessarily becoming more lax about his worldview. I think it's more likely that he is expanding his paradigma, the structure of thought through which he understands the world. I don't think that he is now convinced that women can be warriors as well. I think he rather understands that, in Ferelden, the relationship between occupation and gender is different than under the Qun. Which of the two he thinks is more right or more agreeable, I have no idea. I'm also not very interested in that. But I find it fascinating how he always seems to be looking on quietly, gathering data, classifying it and trying to fit it into his understanding of how the world works. I wouldn't be surprised at all if his original party was a scouting party to see how vulnerable Ferelden was at that moment to outside forces. One thing I don't understand with all of this is why he urges the Warden to meet the Blight head on. No smart soldier would suggest that, except if they are foolishly proud (and Sten doesn't seem like that kind of guy tbh). I get that the Warden takes way longer to gather allies than expected because they first have to solve all of their allies' problems. But surely Sten sees the need to have allies? Is he just that impatient? Does he have a death wish (à la, I lost my sword and am without honour, better to die sooner than later and in glorious battle)? Was he his group's previous commander and is he now having trouble following somebody else's orders? Or maybe it's his way to make sure the Warden knows what they are doing? To push them into becoming the self-assured commander their allies will need once they're all gathered? I really don't know. I like the last option best, however.

For me, Sten is my fellow, more experienced soldier. Like Alistair, he can potentially be the Warden's brother in arms, but he's definitely the older brother here. He probably doesn't take kindly to tearful confessions of how hard everything is, but I feel like he's otherwise a solid rock to lean on. I feel like the Warden can trust him to do what is necessary and count on him no matter what, especially after they get his sword back. His devotion from that point on is honestly so powerful.

Wynne:

Wynne was such a support for my Warden (except with the whole conversation about love vs. duty and that she may have to choose between Zevran and ending the Blight and that she should therefore break up with him. Wynne had a point. Astala was so not willing to sacrifice her relationship with Zevran. But the whole conversation came at a point where she was already so disillusioned that she blew up in Wynne's face (”can i please just have one (1) nice thing????”)). But all in all, Wynne is great.

She has a lot of flaws. She was very marked by her life in the Cricle and, for all her age, she has little experience living outside of it. She is also a conformist despite her strong moral core. In a way, her ability to find peace with her lot in life impresses me deeply because it speaks to a lot of strength of character. Sadly, however, strength can be ill applied and used to suppress. I think she has convinced herself that the Chantry is right under (almost) all circumstances to be able to rationalize the life that mages live. She's had her son taken away from her as a baby and an apprentice killed. Her reaction seems to have been to convince herself that this was right, or for the greater good (and now I'm thinking about the Guardian's question at the temple of Andraste's Ashes; are you wise or do you just repeat what others have told you? The answer is not as clear-cut as it might be). This is why she is so irritated by Zevran and Morrigan. By aligning herself with the Chantry, she is, in her eyes, good. Zevran and Morrigan are not; they do not conform to Chantry morality and they defend themselves tooth and nails against somebody who would try and convert them. This is something Wynne never allowed herself to do; she always did the "right" thing and it has cost her so much. I'm not saying she was right (it would probably have done her some good to rebel from time to time, and to trust her own gut instinct more), but in light of this, it hardly surprises me that she's so judgamental. She has to be, or she would be forced to confront all the evil she has not fought against all those years and all the hurt that has been caused to her by the very institution she protects (and thank God she only tries to argue and can appreciate it when people have found a good life outside of her comfort zone. If she tried to convince by force or, for example, drag her former apprentice back to the Circle... boy oh boy that would get ugly). If you think about it, Wynne really is a good example for what happens if you live by a philosophy of always choosing the lesser evil.

Something that I keep forgetting over her grandmotherly and dignified character is how damn powerful she is. She has escaped the carnage at Ostagar; HOW!? She protected those mage apprentices in the Circle tower for God knows how long. In the battle of Denerim, she wades through an army and comes out alive on the other side. The wiki lists her age at 40, I think, but that doesn't make a lick of sense unless 75 years of age are the Fereldan equivalent to 100. This lady, about whom people make grandmother jokes, did all that. It's impressive.

Zevran:

You know, I would really love to know what Wynne thinks about the events at Kirkwall in DA2. It might be a disaster for her, or it might pave the way for one last bit of character development. She certainly didn't want to return to the Circle after fighting the Blight. That may be an indicator of some change in her stance on the Circle of Magi.

Edit: I forgot that she is what the Circle considers a literal abomination! Holy cow, how could I forget that?? Anyway, her conversation about what being an abomination means is so... heartbreaking, actually. It's so tentative. So careful. "Am I an abomination? Am I the same thing that has killed my students? The same thing as Uldred? Am I lost and damned? Did I invite this spirit in? Is this my fault?" Like wow, Wynne is going through something huge right there. I love it. I have to continue playing the game to see what it ends up as, but it's fascinating and such a huge thing that she allows the Warden in on that.

Ah, Zevran, my beloved (he has stolen my heart so much it's not even funny anymore). He's funny, he's charming, he's so so loyal and it breaks my heart. Zevran is the one about whom I've read most meta: these three wonderful posts for instance, as well as this one about his possible lack of scars, and this one about his lack of freedom. All of these have influenced my opinion of him and they are great reads.

I have talked about Zevran with you before, so I'll just skip to the new stuff. I have come to conclusion that Zevran is an artist at heart. This is totally not biased by the fact that I also do art, but hear me out. One of his preferred gifts are bars of silver and gold. While those have the obvious utility of basically functioning as money (they can be sold to any silversmith or goldsmith and their value is pretty stable through time and in different countries), there's also this from his codex: "Zevran shows an affinity for the finer things in life—hardly surprising for an Antivan Crow—but his appreciation can be more poetic than he lets on. A simple bar of refined silver or gold, uncomplicated by a craftsman's hammer, is elegantly valuable." Tell me that is not an artist's eye that sees that gold and sees the beauty in it. Then, there's also the meta about Zevran the Seducer which I linked above and link here again. It talks specifically about how he lets himself enjoy the target and be seen in his enjoyment. Tell me that is not an artist's eye that beholds the beauty of something he is set out to destroy. Even his talk about his assassinations show this. He talks about it as an art, the way somebody would talk about the brutal intervention in stone that produces a sculpture. Yes, it's a rationalization of the act of killing and yes killing is still wrong. But he doesn't go on about it on a moral tangent the way Alistair or Wynne would (”this person was bad, killing them was necessary”) or even through the argument of survival like Morrigan would (”it was either them or me and it sure as Hell wasn't going to be me”). He talks about the pleasure of a job well done, of the satisfaction of striking the precise point and executing a plan to the perfection so as to minimize chances of discovery and to make a clean death possible. And pleasure in seeing and in doing, this I firmly believe, is absolutely fundamental for an artist.

My favourite part about my Warden and Zevran as a pairing is that Zevran precisely brings out that ability to take your pleasures as they come and to really savour them. Fighting the Blight is tough; it's so important to find good things amidst the chaos to stay sane. If Astala saves Zevran from himself by offering him a place to stay and a purpose, Zevran saves Astala from herself by keeping her from running herself into the ground trying to save the world.

There are some things I don't like about Zev. The incessant flirting, for example, sometimes makes me uncomfortable (it becomes enjoyable for me once the Warden and him are in a relationship, but before that? Nah, no thanks). I wish he would also leave the other female characters alone (and there's so many more shameless comments of his aimed at Morrigan, Leliana or Wynne than at Alistair or maybe even Sten).

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And that's my take on the Origins companions (this was rather long. Whew ^^' I hope it was still readable and that you enjoyed it!!) Thank you so much for the ask!! It's been a joy thinking about this. I was worrying at first that the less prominent companions like Sten or Shale wouldn't get as much content but... well XD

[maikatc]

Black Sun Tale | A Demon

yes i decided to release it early, surprise! count it as a new years surprise as you will. we’re starting off the decade by being introduced to my favorite character!

remember this is only a first draft and only has minor edits, but regardless enjoy! comments and reception are always appreciated!

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The forest of Fowls always left an empty chill in Alice’s spine. The cold, grey skies and silence never changed for the past four-hundred years she stayed dormant in the land. 

A plain door stood with stubble footing on top of the grass. Nothing connected to the passageway. It’d open at any time for her to be welcomed in. She waited with her scheduled patience for the sovereign to be ready. The boy making any big commotion was doubtful, however. 

As time passed, she reviewed what her next moves could be with the others.

Han and Margaret possibly could’ve been of use later on, in her eyes they seemed to have been settling without a fuss as always. Orelia could’ve also been helpful for her; however, she would run off to her own escapades too often. Mei-Ling was also a possible choice for a good friend for her son, though her distance with everyone else would made it impossible for her to get along with someone brand new. 

Despite all of her arguments against the idea however, the Sweet siblings were her best shot. 

At least Vittorino is doing well thus far… She grumbled to herself about the matter. 

Regardless, even after the last few centuries, the new children have been settling themselves well, no matter how dirty their deals were played. 

“You can enter now,” a child-like voice called. Alice made no flinch despite the suddenness, turning to find the door open. She breathed in and out, ready to manage whatever nonsense he held. 

She entered through the door, escaping Fowls to a new realm. 

The realm would’ve been blank if it weren’t for the views of the Obodo streets. A storm blew gusts of winds against the neighborhood trees. Citizens scurried to find the nearest shelter in a café or bar. The city was alive with desperation. 

Alice found a boy sitting in the middle of the endless room. He sat on a wooden stool in the middle of the traffic line, being unaffected by the rushing illusion of cars. His pale body shined against the dark evening along with his white, angel-like hair. A golden circlet laid on his head, baring a dirty, coal-like bort gem with a rough cut. He didn’t bat an eye on Alice, instead observing a family arguing in the rain. 

“Tell me, Alice,” the boy started, “how many people have you meet in your lifetime?” 

She answered with no time, “That’s not countable, Akeldama. You’ve likely met more than I have already.” 

“Then, let’s put it to simpler terms.” Akeldama turned his seat, facing her against a now clear room. His red eyes darted her, his left holding a black sun, yet his face bared only curiosity. “How many people have you met before you met me?”

Alice followed what he said, standing tall against him though still in his command. “If you put it as that, then that’d roughly be about fifty to a hundred, not counting infants. My village wasn’t quite as large as others, as you know.” 

Akeldama sat upward, tapping his chin. “Mine was about the same. It’s fascinating, isn’t it.” He turned back to the thriving city, smiling at the humans in front of him. “To think that societies have grown so much.” 

The room transformed into a small diner. The two faced a couple conversing with their waiter, grinning in delight of what they talked. 

“You can meet just anybody in a day, thousands throughout your life. Yet, you can forget their existence a few hours after.” He smiled. “It’s compelling if you ask me, because how do you even grow to care about others when there’s so many?”

“For the most part… you just do,” Alice answered. 

Akeldama stared at her with her answer, then turned back around at the couple. He twisted his hair back and forth. “Would that mean that it’s just human instinct then? From what I can tell, people care about others for the pleasure of them being around. You can say it’s almost selfish in their part as it’s simply self-satisfaction. Though, the instinct to protect others and do whatever for them is… natural too… right?”

Alice reminded him, “Akeldama, I think we’ve already had this conversation before, if you can’t recall.”

“Don’t just say ‘I think’ when you know you’re right,” Akeldama ordered. “And I know. I’m solely… curious about it… It’s been making me satisfied from the past few years.”

“Why is that,” she grumbled. 

The room went blank again as Akeldama stared in mid-space. “I’ve been- well, less bored for one thing. But I’ve been feeling more scared, guilty, even a little sad for other people! The most emotion I’ve felt towards someone was like two feelings and that was only after they left!” His eyes shined a vermillion. 

Alice pondered, “And just why would that be good for you?”

He cheered, “It’s just great to have those kinds of feelings, you know? Goes to show that I’m less of a monster than I was made out to be.” He spun in his chair. “As a demon, I’m glad that I can feel that kind of stuff too.”

“You’re nonsensical at best,” Alice complied. “A terrible being if you ask me.”

He giggled and shrugged her off. “I don’t think that’ll matter in the end.”

She sighed. “… I assume that these emotions are occurring because of my son?”

He gave short, clunky chuckles. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? He’s one of the only people I’ve really talked to in years. Of course, I’d feel bad for him.”

“Yet you have no remorse for anybody else?”

His brows furrowed at her. “Oliver at least has a reason for my attention. I really shouldn’t feel emotions all that much especially like this. It’s just unfortunate nature, as you’d call it… I guess this is instinct going at itself, but overall it’s nice to have.” 

Akeldama turned back around to the room’s scenery. Alice stared from afar. She couldn’t help but ask him for another time. 

“Why did you have to impose yourself as Faustus just to talk to Oliver?”

Akeldama pulled back, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t want things to be too obvious for him and Ayu. It was too easy of a connection. Had to hide my identity so I had to use one of my dead names for the kid.” He pouted. “It sucks that I had to leave before his conditions started… but I had to leave before he started asking questions.”

He bit his lip. Alice waited for more as he took a pause. 

“Besides, I had to start using more of my time to mess with Ayu.”

“What do you even wish to accomplish with Ayu?” 

“… You’ll know soon enough.”

No clear answer, Alice confirmed, as expected from him. “Why do you do all of these terrible acts, then? Why subjugate everyone like this?

“Don’t worry.” Akeldama lifted his finger swirling it around to form a small black whirlwind. “It’s all to have what we want in the end. You’ll be free to do as you wish once this is over.” He counts with his other hand. “Give it ‘til June 6th.”

The idea of freedom boggled Alice. However, she remained silent. 

“By the way,” Akeldama snaps the whirlwind into thin air, “it’s been a while now since I’ve wanted to say this. Go tell the others that they don’t have to make their monthly payments to me anymore.” He grinned at her. 

“Wait.” Alice stammered. “You mean that-”

Akeldama nodded. “No more lives at your risk, but you’ll still be allowed to if you’d like. Go tell Vittorino if you don’t want to deal with- what do you call it, the ‘second era’ about it.”

“B-but, why now?” Alice took a step forward, but flinched and stepped back immediately. 

Akeldama eyed her but grumbly replied. “Everybody probably wants a break. You’ll have more time with your son too, won’t you?” His voice broke into a stingy tone, only to clear his throat after speaking. “You may leave now if you wish.”

She squinted at him in doubt. Though she pushed it aside and gave him a bow. “Thank you.”

“Don’t bow at me,” he bickered. 

“Yes, yes, I know.” Her lips curled up as exited back into the forest. 

The door behind her shut and disappeared after she took her steps out. Though in front of her eyes, she found a familiar child, matted with a messy trench-coat and black hair. 

“How’d it go this time?” Vittorino held his arms crossed, lying against a tree. 

She took no time. “Tell the others that we’re on break.”

“Wait really?” He twisted his body, the balance making him fall over in the process. He swiftly got up and brushed off the dry grass. “That’s what he said today? I don’t even think anyone would even care.” He paused and snickered. “Eilwen’ll definitely have an earful for you.”

“She always complains about him,” Alice walked by him, removing the grass stuck on his back. “Almost everyone before you did.”

Vittorino scoffed. “First and second eras are different.” 

“Very different, Vittorino. That’s why you’re telling them for me.” She patted him on the back and was about to walk off. Vittorino nearly disappeared on her until she asked, “What happened to Oliver afterwards…?”

Vittorino blinked, then sneered. “He had a panic attack after Ayu found him as a mess.”

“Oh, dear lord,” Alice placed a hand on her head. “Is he alright otherwise?”

“If you count angry, confused, and overall emotionally distressed, then yes.”

She glared at him. “Your attitude is not needed at the moment.”

“And doubting the obvious is not needed.” He slapped her sluggishly by the arm. “Get your job done with already. He’s already getting along with Ayu like you wanted. Now all he needs is to get some help for once.”

“Yes, don’t fret,” she assured Vittorino, “I’ll contact him soon. I’m just hoping he’ll grow up to be like Christopher in the end.” 

Vittorino looked to the side. “Yeah sure. I’ll still try and talk with him. It’ll make the next few months more entertaining… aside from Roselle and those guys.”

“That reminds me, how are those people doing?”

Vittorino leaned back on the tree. “Roselle’s the only one I’m really paying attention to right now. But Jackson’s actually getting a clue for once and the others just aren’t doing anything.”

“Why is Roselle the one you’re paying attention to?”

“Easy.” He nodded. “She’s the heartless one out of them all, but she’s also the most vulnerable to mess with. She doesn’t want to interact with anybody nor does she even care about the iblis or us killing people, so it’s easy to hop around on what she could do.”

“I see…” Alice muttered. “Don’t do anything severe with them, regardless. Akeldama wants to make sure there’s some damage to them but not enough to their deaths.” 

Vittorino pushed himself out of his stance and waved her off. “Can’t promised you that.” 

He was gone in the blink of an eye. 

Oh Roselle, I give you my prayers. Alice made another step into the tall grass, as she walked back to her own cottage. The future ahead of them held no boundaries out of what could happen.

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Ten Dollars | Bread and Water | Red Eye | Crimson Capture | November 1st | A Mother��| Next>>>