#chronos is so not the right man to be an inquisitor

[a-drama-addict]

"You've got thousand of lives riding on your decisions. You bear that weight all day."

[inquisitornocturn]

◇─ 𝕴𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖆 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖆𝖙 𝕹𝖎𝖍𝖎𝖑 ─◇

◇𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖘 ─ 𝕻𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖚𝖘 𝕸𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖚𝖒◇

⚜ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Inquisitor Lord Xavier Calcazar / oc!High Interrogator Volenta van Halvek von Valancius af Calixis / Interrogator Heinrix van Calox

⚜ 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: Overall story rating - E. Smut, PiV, fluff

⚜ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: Balancing duty and personal life is not easy for two members of the Inquisition, but with stolen moments at chance opportunities Volenta and Xavier make it work, and have made it work for several decades already. But not all secrets can be hidden forever, if at all, and Silas proves that by confronting Xavier.

⚜ 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 8,192 | on AO3 |

story summary and chapter list can be found here ⚜ artwork I commissioned for Volenta can be found under #oc: Inquisitor Volenta

The sound wakes you. Not that of the creatures that populate this planet, not of the voxcast that could be crackling for attention, no, you wake because you hear a thunder strike. Stirring slightly you realize you’re not alone, warmth of a body your head rests upon is proof enough, and you are flooded with memories from last night. Pleasant ones, because the painkiller is still working strong, alleviating any sore you might be feeling.

A smile appears on your face before you even open your eyes and you let your palm affectionally rub Xavier’s chest while you listen to another thunder crack outside the palace followed by a sudden downpour of rain. With the window open the room is filled with soothing noises from the outside, the celebration now muted almost entirely, creating a feeling of pleasant isolation.

When you finally open your eyes you look up at Xavier, his face is calm, relaxed and when you try to move, you at last notice his heavy mechanical arm digging into your waist where it rests draped over you. With a grunt you move it off, knowing that if not for the medicine, the soreness you’d be feeling from this alone for the rest of the day would make even walking difficult, not to mention everything else. Side of your face feels swollen and you do feel the pull of skin both on your skull and under the plasteel patches, but you don’t care much about that right now. In this moment, you look at the man by who’s side you’re resting, seeing his chest that is littered with scars rise and fall in a rhythmic, relaxed manner.

Another crack of thunder and it makes you think about what time it is. You rise your head, then carefully sit up trying not to wake Xavier and notice that besides the darkness of overcast it’s pretty bright. Must be late, you realize and look around the room for a chrono. Your head swivels and you feel rising concern at the possibility you’re late to report to Silas’ side when the back of your neck is suddenly gripped and you are pulled into a kiss. Your eyes widen for a moment and you push at Xavier, trying to gain your release, but to no avail. He kisses you deeply, possessively, you have no say in the matter, so after another moment of stubborn struggle, you give in and relax against him, kissing him back with sensual yearning.

After a long moment he finally releases you and you pull back, looking at him with a slight frown.

“I think I’m late.”

“You might be.” The Inquisitor smiles the kind of smile that is a pict perfect image of an arrogantly satisfied man. He’s victorious, basking in the glory of his achievement – having you in his arms once again.

“Stop it, how it will look like that I’m not in my rooms and I’m late to meet the Inquisitor Lord.” Your frown now becomes apparent and Xavier chuckles, a deeply pleasant rumble that you never tire of hearing, even right now.

“How will it look like? Like you got injured and I decided not to let my dear pupil out of my sight.” He keeps smiling, clearly not taking your alarm seriously and you say nothing, just turn and try to get out of bed, but Calcazar’s tech-arm quickly stops you mid-way and by an elbow pulls your back against him.

You gruff as you are made to partially lay your back over his chest and look up at him, trying to understand why he’s so nonchalant about your duties, but the joyful spark in the Inquisitor’s eye tells you everything you need to know: he’s simply happy to have you with him. He knows that this kind of show of emotion disarms you immediately and he’s correct, because you relax again as if giving up, at least for the time being.

“I will tell Silas it was your fault I’m late. And I still want to know what time it is.” You speak and try not to react when same hand that pulled you against Xavier now cups your right breast, cold metal fingers teasing your nipple. You try to ignore it, but you feel the heat spreading over your face. It gives a reason for the Inquisitor to smile with even more satisfaction at the sight of you.

“It’s definitely late, near lunch time. Or do you want to know minute by minute?” He teases and you frown again but then press your lips together, because Xavier keeps playing with your nipple, making the heat begin to spread in your loins now too.

“Stop it.” You complain and try to move his hand away, but with a tsk he makes you immediately relent. “I have to go and you know that.”

“I do, but couple minutes here and there won’t change much now, will they?” The deepness of his voice, the elegance of his mechanical fingers knowing exactly how much pressure to apply, his warmth against your back. It disarms you once again.

“And why do you think it’s a good idea to rile me up before I have to go and see my mentor?” You huff, still trying to resist even if only verbally, and Xavier chuckles.

“Am I doing that? I didn’t have a clue.” Mischief now appears in Calcazar’s gaze and smile, and you can’t help but smile too, despite how flustered you are feeling.

“Lying to me is heresy.” You tease in return and he rises his eyebrows, feigning surprise.

“Is that so? Would you dare interrogating an Inquisitor Lord, Volenta?”

“I would and I have my methods how to deal with you specifically, Inquisitor.” Your own smile becomes colored with mischief and you turn, slipping your breast out of his grasp so that you’re able lean over him, your hair falling off your back like snow-white curtains and you feel Xavier’s hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“Oh I’m sure you do.” His voice is husky when he speaks, tinged with desire, and you bow down, kissing him, letting him turn it from something near chaste to something passionate as you press yourself against him. But then the Emperor-damned voxcast crackles.

“Void take you!” You suddenly rise your voice, annoyed, and it’s mirrored in Xavier’s expression too but he sighs, knowing that it was a risk in the first place since you both clearly overslept.

“Get it for me, my dear.” Inquisitor’s flesh hand pats your rear under the sheets and you sigh, then get out of bed, feeling the weight of the Holy Inquisition rosette finding it’s resting spot in the valley of your breasts once again.

When you walk off, Xavier sits up enough to lean against the pillows and smiles to himself when he sees the Inquisitorial tattoo show almost shyly from behind your hair covering your back down to your waist. He sees the bandages too, but most importantly he sees the scars and it gives him a sense of pride. But then his gaze slips down, to your swinging hips, roundness of your backside and the curve of it as you turn your side to Calcazar to pick up the voxcom that is now beeping after the initial crackle.

Couple more seconds pass while you return to the bed, Inquisitor’s eyes sweeping over your naked front, noticing the bruises he left on your wrists and thigh with another wave of pride, and when you crawl into bed like a gracious predatory beast, he feels the urge to have you again before you have to leave. Yet he has to deal with your mentor first and taking the voxcast out of your hand, he presses a button.

Before Xavier is even able to speak, Ravonir’s voice comes through.

“Van Halvek with you, Calcazar?” The moment you hear Inquisitor Lord’s tone your face drains of emotion and you sit up, listening. Just like you spent decades by Xavier’s side and learned to read him, so did you learn to read Silas as well. He’s not a man who angers quickly or shows it easily, but when his voice sounds blank – you know that Ravonir is white with rage.

Your eyes meet Xavier’s as he answers after a fraction of a second.

“Yes.”

“Is she aware that she was supposed to report to me at least two hours ago?” Calcazar can see nothing to betray how you’re reacting to hearing these words, but he senses more than anything how tense you are.

“She is. I requested her assistance this morning, because bringing you recaf for a hangover didn’t seem as important.” Xavier’s voice is practically toneless as well and you’ve seen these game between Inquisitors before, either these two or other interesting pairs, dueling with words where one wrong intonation might lead to bloodshed.

A heavy pause, another near deafening crack of thunder after a flash of lightning, and you make a decision. You slip out of the bed before Silas even speaks again and walk to the box containing your clothes while Xavier watches.

A sigh now escapes the vox transmitter.

“Have her returned to me in thirty minutes tops, Xavier.” A pause and Xavier almost speaks, then Silas’ voice comes through again. “And I invite you to join us for lunch. There’s something to discuss while you’re present.”

“Very well. See you there.”

The vox transmission cuts and Xavier lowers his hand while he watches you unfold your uniform with utmost respect and lay it down on the desk until you find your underwear at the very bottom on the box.

“Come back to bed.” Calcazar orders but you ignore it, pulling on your panties and now trying to put on your bra. The plasteel patch on your shoulder is limiting flexibility of your movements even if the pain is not back yet.

“I have to go, you heard Silas. It’s not below him to make me wash the latrines for this.” You respond without looking back and Xavier sighs with irritation.

“He won’t make you do that, I wouldn’t allow it.” Calcazar speaks but he does wonder if he would have enough weight to throw around when it comes to Ravonir. He might not. Still, he can enjoy your company for a little longer and the lure of your curves and pale skin is too irresistible for him to decide that the risk of making you late again is the one worth taking.

At his words you just slightly shake your head, as if in demure disagreement but say nothing and that is enough to make Xavier realize that you’re not coming back to him unless he makes you. With a slightly annoyed sigh he tosses the bedsheet aside and gets out bed himself, walking behind you and catching your wrists again, stopping you from clasping your bra behind you.

Your grey eyes immediately turn to him, like two shards of ice under the moonlight, and he smirks to you.

“I thought I told you to come back to bed.” Xavier doesn’t hesitate to press himself to your back, pushing you against the edge of the table and you meekly try to pull your hands from his grasp.

“Xavier, I am not going to risk scorning my mentor just because-“

“Because what?” He interrupts, daring you to say something that might scorn him and he releases one wrist, his fingers briefly ghosting over your stomach before they make their way down, into your panties, finding the heat he seeks. You grip the side of the table and exhale slightly, because he knows how exactly to touch you, enjoying the feeling of his middle finger pressing down over your clit and slowly slipping further, between your folds, carrying a sweet promise of letting you feel it inside in a matter of seconds.

“Xavier…” You partially sigh, not knowing how to argue with him and he gives you a satisfied smile, releasing your other wrist and allowing his mechanical fingers once again find your breast, cupping it firmly, eliciting another soft gasp out of you when he allows himself to be rougher compared to earlier.

“I don’t need more than fifteen minutes, Volenta, and you will do well to remember that what I need is the most important thing in your life.” Xavier’s words are right by your ear as he presses himself even more against you, making you near bend over the table if not for your fingers gripping the edge of it.

A blush colors your face when Inquisitor’s fingers begin stroking you for couple seconds, then slip with ease into you, making you gasp louder.

“Yes, I know, but Silas…” You trail off and bow your head slightly because Xavier’s lips find the side of your neck, then you feel his erection press against your lower back after he adjusts his stance behind you. Your unfastened bra slips down your shoulders to your wrists, but you don’t even care to discard it completely, not right now.

“Silas will wait as he has done so before, my dear.” Xavier whispers again and draws a soft moan out of you as his thumb brushes against your clit while his fingers lazily pump in and out of you, making that heat you felt in your loins return with tenfold ferocity. Your body reacts, responds to the sweet stimulation and another moan cuts through the sound of rain filling the room when steel fingers playfully pluck at your nipple only to catch it a moment later. “You seem intent on trying to tell me no this morning.” The Inquisitor notices and you smile slightly, seeing your uniform laid down before you until your eyes close at the wonderful sensation of his lips trailing against the side of your neck.

“Because you made me late already.” You admit but despite your words, and his, when Calcazar gently pulls his fingers out of you and brings it to his mouth savoring the taste for just a second, then pulls your panties down your hips and lets them slip down your legs to the floor, and then when he finally lifts your left thigh making you anchor your knee over the edge of the desk, you don’t protest whatsoever.

“A little lower.” His hand presses against your back, right in the middle of the Holy Ordo tattoo where the skull glares at Xavier with unyielding gaze of its black sockets, making you bend over the desk until you have to release the edge of it and support yourself upright with your palms. You make sure that you avoid touching your uniform, not wanting to risk crumpling the fabric even now. “Perfect.” The word is said with hot breath against your skin and his steel fingers grip your breast firmly once more. The Inquisitor is not going to be wasting any of his precious time right now either.

When you glance down at his hand caressing your breast, you see your rosette swinging heavily from your neck and it makes you smile. Despite duty in your heart telling you that you should be getting dressed right now, despite it reminding you of that pesky Interrogator that’s on a run, maybe giving out most sacred secrets to Chaos, you can’t help but want this, need this, just as Xavier needs you.

“Don’t worry, my dear Volenta, you will be dressed and presentable for Silas in time.” He whispers against your ear as you patiently wait for him to position his hard length against you, rub the tip of his cock in your wetness, and then push it in, making you mewl with pleasure.

“And what about a shower?” You ask with a smile, watching the symbol of your station begin to swing faster when Xavier starts thrusting, with first few strokes being slower as he tries the angle, and then fast, hard and needy after he decides that it’s perfect.

“You don’t need it and maybe a little reminder of me while you’re in Ravonir’s company will do you good.” You hear a smirk in his words as Inquisitor’s lips move against your ear and after they are spoken, you listen to Calcazar’s satisfied sighs each time he sheathes himself within you to the hilt.

“I’m not going to be comfortable.” You complain among your own sighs of delight as he keeps pumping into you harder and harder, not wasting a second to get what he needs from you.

“I said nothing of your comfort, my dear.” Xavier’s words now come from behind your ear and you close your eyes, letting your head bow as you brace yourself against the force of his pace. He plucks at your nipple again, making you cry out louder and your body shudders already, indicating that his relentless assault is achieving what it’s meant to.

“Holy Terra…” You moan while feeling your rosette slam against your chest in tune with Inquisitor’s pumps and he seems not to appreciate it much, because his mechanical arm releases your breast and grabs at the metal symbol, then, to your surprise, grips your throat. You feel sharp edges of the Holy Ordo insignia cut into your skin, albeit without drawing blood, and it only gets worse as Xavier’s fingers firmly squeeze your neck, making you lift your chin and struggle to inhale.

“That’s it, stop thinking and just give yourself to me, Volenta.” Calcazar orders and you are in no position to disobey.

Your nails scrape against the ancient wood of the desk. You hear nothing but your own blood pumping in your veins and Xavier’s satisfied groans against your ear. The grip on your neck relents, allowing you to moan again and the Inquisitor’s hand, the one that held you by your hip up until now, pushes you even more against the desk. You know he’s close.

Few more erratic strokes, you know them so well, and Calcazar lets out a low moan before he floods you with his seed. You whine at this, but he doesn’t forget you or your pleasure. The moment his thrusts start to slow as last couple spurts make his body shake from bliss, Xavier’s hand releases your hip and with practiced ease finds your clit, rubbing it in small, fast circles. He knows that this is all you need and he’s correct, as he usually is, because you shudder, gasping for air as you feel a wave of pleasure threaten and then – overtake you, washing you in mind-numbing rapture. Inquisitor feels your muscles spasm, your body shudder and he lets out another moan, feeling like he could come again just from this if it only lasted a little longer. But with your last moan echoing off the walls, you let your head drop again while you gasp for air.

And Xavier ceases now too, his face resting against the back of your shoulder as he tries to catch his own breath. After a moment or two of stillness, he reaches around and embraces you, his arms circling around your waist and then there’s a lazy, hot kiss pressing against the side of your neck. You shiver, your body reacting with sensitivity of the aftermath when you move your knee from the edge of the desk and force Calcazar to hug you a little tighter. He doesn’t want to let go just yet.

“The time?” You manage to ask with your words coarse before you remember to wet your lips and swallow dryly, trying to regain your voice.

“It took ten minutes, my dear.” Xavier whispers and you let out a slight sigh of relief.

“I need to get dressed.” You whisper even though your heart aches at the thought of him releasing you.

“Indeed you do.” Despite his own displeasure with the duty of letting you go, he does exactly that, releasing your waist and carefully pulling out of you, then smiling to himself when he hears the tiniest whimper escape your lips at that. He did well, he knows you will be thinking of nothing else but this for the rest of your day, that only Xavier will be on your mind. The thought satisfies him more than sex.

After he steps back, he watches you slowly collect yourself then pull up your underwear. To his masculine delight, the Inquisitor already sees some drops of his seed slip down the inside of your thigh. A smug smile appears on his face while he allows you to get dressed undisrupted. He walks to the same table he served himself drinks from last night and pours water into a clean glass from a decanter.

Watching you with a pride of a conqueror, Xavier finally decides he had enough of a show from witnessing you clasp your bra and put on your socks, then pants, followed by boots, then shirt. He walks closer and offers you the glass with water, which you take gratefully and empty before handing it back to him.

“I don’t like that Silas invited you to join us for lunch, I don’t like what he might have in mind.” You admit as you button up your shirt and stuff the hem of it into your pants before buttoning up pants and buckling the belt.

“Aren’t you his right hand-woman? If anyone might have any idea why, it is you, Volenta.” Xavier lets you continue to dress while he walks back and pours himself more water. He, unlike you, plans to take a shower and then dress at his leisure, although washing off your smell from his skin is not something that he will do without a pang of disappointment.

You give Xavier a short glance before you put on your greatcoat and strap your waist with a power sword and plasma pistol.

“And do you tell everything to your own right-hand man?” You ask and Xavier chuckles to himself, as if there’s some hidden joke you’re not privy to. He takes another sip of water before answering, his eyes darting to the open window, outside which the rain is beginning to slow and rays of sun start to emerge from behind the heavy clouds. It will be another beautiful day.

“Heinrix? No, my dear, I don’t, but I tell you everything.”

“I could almost believe you.” You smile to the Inquisitor and he laughs now, watching you pick up your mask and in practiced fashion wrangle your hair underneath it before the latches snap the contraption in place.

“I taught you well after all.” He praises and sets aside the glass before approaching you and helping you with your cloak. Yes, the servants sewed up the tears and washed the fabric, but as he knew it, the blood is still visible in the intricate threads of embroidered hems and symbols.

“Delighted you think so.” You comment from behind your mask and let him pull the hood over your head while you put your gloves on, then lastly pick up your broken psyocculum. This Magnae Accessio seems to be an unlucky one for you. From being wounded to breaking two important for your job tools.

Once you are all properly dressed, Xavier attaches your pauldrons and with calm expression touches the damaged purity seals on one of them. Saying nothing he fixes up how your cloak flows from under the steel and straightens your Inquisitorial rosette.

“Perfect. Now go, you have nine minutes to find Silas. Oh, and return to me tonight.” When you give him a pointed look he feels even through your mask, he adds: “I won’t make you late tomorrow, believe me, my dear.” As Calcazar steps aside to let you pass, you bow your head to him, all duty and honor once again, then walk towards the door.

Neither of you have to say anything because you will be seeing each other shortly, but Xavier can’t ignore the feeling that overwhelms him as he watches you go. He wants to delay you just for a moment longer, to see your face just for another second, but he knows better than to indulge himself in boyish whims, so when the door closes behind you, leaving the man alone, he glances around, then towards the bed and smiles at the memory.

But shower first.

After refreshing and summoning servitors to his room to help with the power armor that is now guarding his body, Inquisitor Lord Calcazar easily finds himself in the same lounge he spent some hours at last night with Silas.

Once he enters the area, he scans the room, taking note of hungover nobles and overall mood of the after-party tiredness, then, with barely disguised smile, he confidently strolls to the table where he sees you and Silas, chatting with cups of recaf on the table.

“Xavier, glad you were able to join us.” Ravonir stands and two men greet each other. You do that as well, standing and saluting the one that made sure that every time you move until your next shower you will remember his claim to you.

“My schedule may be busy, but even I need to eat.” Calcazar says without a smile and when the two of them sit down, you take a pot of recaf and pour a steaming cup for Xavier, putting it in front of him with gentle care.

That doesn’t go unnoticed by Silas, even if he has seen you serve the Inquisitor before. He waits for you to sit down and partially unlatch your mask, letting the bottom of your face become slightly exposed for the purpose of tasting your own drink.

“Indeed. I am not happy you delayed Volenta this morning.” Ravonir says with his eyes piercing into Calcazar’s and his bionic eye registers change in heat signature. Looks like Inquisitor Silas is actually pretty unhappy with that and Xavier knows he needs to say something so that Silas doesn’t start asking questions.

“Apologies for that. The task I needed her help with was important and considering the company I left you in last night, I assumed that her presence wasn’t vital to your morning routines.” As Xavier speaks he lifts the cup to his lips, pretending not to look at Silas who considers Calcazar’s words for a moment.

“You would not be wrong on most such occasions, but let’s not forget there was an assassination attempt on the esteemed Rogue Trader Ma’Kao just last night.” Inquisitor Silas seems to relax at Xavier’s words somewhat and then he too picks up the recaf while you observe them both, not finding anything of worth to add to the current exchange.

“I thought you squashed the attempt, or am I mistaken?” Xavier now gives Silas a scrutinizing look and Ravonir flashes a smile.

“Don’t take me for an amateur, Xavier, those lesser than you have made this mistake before.” His smile gains a dangerous edge in the silence that follows and your shoulders tense, but Calcazar only shows an equally threatening smile.

“No offense intended, Silas. Just mere… curiosity.” He sips on his hot drink again and Silas leans back in a chair, casting a short glance over your nearly still, silent form, then looks back at your patron.

“Then let me satisfy that curiosity. The assassins, three more of them in addition to ones Volenta dispatched earlier yesterday, were trying to poison the God-Emperor’s anointed with wine. The whole operation was so disorganized and the assassins so inexperienced, that when esteemed Rogue Trader decided against tasting a drink below his status, one of the murderer-wannabes started getting impatient. One of your men with which you arrived noticed this immediately and the culprits were quickly apprehended and handed over to me.” Silas pauses to wet his throat with recaf and continues while you watch him carefully. “After interrogating the tree blasphemers I quickly discovered that the assassination was ordered by one minor noble house. So while you were busy keeping Volenta away from the festivities, Ma’Kao ordered an execution of the entire House and that opened day two of his celebrations.”

“Efficient.”

“Inquisition always is.”

“Seems foolish to send some common rabble to execute a Rogue Trader during Magnae Accessio, especially with the guest list chockfull of militants, agents of the Golden Throne and other personnel more than capable of dispatching six ill contempt men.” You speak up at last and both Inquisitors look at you, their eyes fixed on the electronic glow of your mask’s oculus mechanisms like they could peer through them into your eyes.

“There have been less intelligent attempts against people in positions of power before.” Silas dismisses your concern and glances at Xavier with a wry smile. “If you are alluding that I didn’t do my job correctly, I welcome you to investigate the situation yourself, van Halvek. Although the men in question will not be able to answer your questions anymore.” There’s real danger in Silas’ words and you feel your jaw clench with tension.

“Won’t be necessary, I do trust your judgement and skill, Inquisitor Lord. I was simply wondering why this noble house, although small, didn’t wait for a better opportunity to strike. Seems rather disorganized.” You take a sip of your recaf to feign the sense of ease around the table while Xavier keeps looking at you. Silas, on the other hand, just waves at you dismissively and chuckles.

“Their reasoning was that with plenty of people around and with celebration making everyone less cautious, Rogue Trader would not think twice about drinking another countless drink thrust in his direction. Apparently the attack in front of the palace was not supposed to go the way it did.” Ravonir now gives you a genuine smile after lowering his cup to the table. “You muddled their plans. When they saw you in front of the entrance the men panicked, thinking that the Inquisition is already on their tail. How lucky for us.” He chuckles again and you let out a smallest sigh of relief.

Your gaze shifts to Xavier who casts his to the cup in his hand and drinks the steaming liquid before speaking.

“The Emperor protects. Rogue Trader must be grateful that things unfolded in a way they did.”

“After morning’s executions, our esteemed host is now celebrating privately before he appears in front of his guests later today.”

Couple servo skulls zoom overhead and that seems to break the tension around the table. Some servants appear with plates and all of you now shuffle to allow yourselves to be served. The meal passes lightly with Silas making good-hearted jokes and Xavier following the banter with ease. You, on the other hand, remain silent. Not because you have nothing to add, but because this type of conversation is not your forte. Not when you are in company of not one, but two Inquisitor Lords which pull the strings of your life as they deem it fit.

After the meal the servants appear again and remove the plates, bringing another pot of recaf to the table and men lean back in their chairs as you stand once more to refill Xavier’s cup.

“Thank you, my dear.” He smiles to you and you allow yourself a smile in return, only because your back is turned to Silas.

“Some for me too, please.” Ravonir says and you duly fill his cup as well, then finally your own before sitting down.

Another moment passes, each one of you observe your surroundings but seeing nothing out of place Xavier is first to speak. His eyes turn to Silas and the Inquisitor immediately focus on his colleague.

“You said you wanted to talk to me about something, then let’s discuss exactly that.” When Calcazar speaks his words are measured, clear and in a tone he uses most often - calm authority.

��Right.” Silas shifts in his chair towards Xavier, but his body language open to you as well and you feel the tension in the air. “Yesterday I spoke about promotion for our dear Volenta.” You sigh with relief inaudibly, because you expected something much worse, maybe your flaws to be discussed, or a measure of punishment for being late to report to Silas this morning. But no, seems he spoke with Xavier about the things you know already and he’s just bringing you both to speed.

“Yes, and I said I will grant her my approval. Is there a problem finding another Inquisitor?” He knows he doesn’t need to ask this, even last night Ravonir was clear when telling him that there’s plenty of colleagues willing to cast their vote to make you an Inquisitor in your own right, but also you seem to have neglected to mention to Xavier that you already knew the news. If asked, Calcazar would not be able to tell how he knows that, but he does.

“Not at all, I just need to pick someone, but there are plenty willing to support you.” Silas turns to you and you lower your cup, respectfully bowing your head.

“I am grateful for the support of my esteemed colleagues.” You say and Ravonir pats your thigh with a smile.

“Don’t be so humble, Volenta, you work hard, of course people are going to recognize it.” Inquisitor’s words are laced with genuine encouragement, but Xavier feels a hint of irritation at how he touches you. You feel it as well. While Silas is never too handy with you, knowing you’re not the type to appreciate a hug, on rare occasions like this when he decides to ignore your discomfort, you wish you could break his fingers.

With both you and Xavier glaring at Silas’ hand still on your thigh, he gives it a friendly squeeze, not unlike a father being familial with his daughter, but you still stiffen.

“Then I suppose you also know about Sanatorum Imperialis suggestion as well?” Xavier cuts off the silence before it becomes uncomfortable and at last Silas rises his hand, picking up his cup instead, taking a sip to wet his throat again.

“I do.” You nod and follow your mentor’s suit, taking a sip of your own. “I am honored by such opportunity, if it passes to be. And if not, I am still honored by sheer generosity of such proposal.” Your tone is cold, colorless, unreadable. Except for Xavier. You’ve perfected the way you present yourself as a High Interrogator, your face near emotionless, your tone even and politely curt and diplomatic, but there’s still moments like this where he hears old traits of betrayed emotion. In this case – actual gratitude. You are more than happy that Silas is seriously considering suggesting you to represent the Most Holy Inquisition at such an important council meeting, you are proud.

“Who represented us to the Lords of Terra last time?” Silas asks, and you know damn well that he remembers, but that’s how Inquisitor lulls his opponents into security, by making them feel smart, although in this case he’s just making small talk, thankfully. One thing you would never want to see happening is Inquisitor Lord of Ordo Xenos clashing, possibly to the death, with Lord Inquisitor of Ordo Hereticus. You are not quite sure who would come out of such confrontation victorious.

“Heres Sicoss of the Black Templars chapter.” Xavier responds promptly and drinks more of recaf from his cup, his eyes on it as well. “I hear he swore to never return.” You notice a small smirk tug at the corner of his lips and have to stop yourself from smiling as well.

“Ah, Heres. Good man, last time I requested aid of Black Templars he was really eager to bash some heads in.” Silas laughs and you nod, because you were there for that mission. Small planetoid overrun with heretics after your Ordo decided to let it run uninterrupted for couple decades to see how the cult develops. Blasting entire thing to ash and dust seemed unreasonable, aftereffects of the blasphemy could still be studied for years to come, so Silas pulled some strings and got Black Templars to accompany the Inquisition in the task.

“I’m surprised high marshal Kordhel didn’t go.” Xavier wonders out loud and you feel a small tremor in your fingers at the memory of a man. Not because of fear, not at all, but because of a strangest encounter you could have possibly had with an Astartes. One of the impossible intimate nature.

It happened nearly two decades ago on the night before the Templars left for yet another mission. Inquisition’s forces and their Chapter were celebrating the victory after cleansing that heretical world with utmost efficiency. It wasn’t the biggest such operation you have been part of, but definitely one of the most satisfying because there were no worries about civilians, there were simply none, just hordes of heretics to hack your way through with utter satisfaction. You suppose same high mood was elevating everyone in the camp.

You got invited for a private conversation with high marshal Kordhel, a man of ferocious reputation and diligence. You are not too keen on consorting with Astartes, they don’t think Emperor is a God, first and foremost, second, they are never too eager to work with the Inquisition, which to you seems like an offense against the Holy Terra itself, but you are smart enough to keep such opinions to yourself.

You vividly remember what happened. High marshal was impressed by your battle prowess and wanted to congratulate you, thus he offered some mead that Astartes apparently brew. You didn’t want to partake, but the marine spoke of it as high honor and you eventually agreed, because it’s good to be respected by men with which you will need to work many times in the future. The drink nearly knocked you out, but Kordhel soon got visibly drunk. And then somehow, of this you are not really sure, the conversation turned to biology of you and him, the differences, functions and then following memories come in flashes. Astartes’ studying gaze while he had his hand in your pants, and your utter shock when he observed you like a bug under a microscope as he made you climax with rough fingers and precision.

You lower your head because you feel your face beginning to burn. You didn’t tell Xavier about this, you don’t see what use it would be to do so, but now that Kordhel’s name came up, so did resurface the memories of that partially hazy night. A familiar feeling of shame burns you from the inside and you are just grateful for your mask, because not many things can make you break composure, but this still sometimes gets through to you and at most unexpected moments, such as this one.

“Kordhel has more important things to do than listen to old men politicking.” Silas swirls recaf in his cup and then empties it, putting it down with a sigh. “In either case, you seem ready to take on the duty, are you not?” You get addressed and that makes you snap to attention with a curt nod.

“Yes, it’s an incredible honor to represent the Inquisition, Silas. I just worry there might be significant pushback because I’m not an Inquisitor and due to my age. Many still see me as young and inexperienced.”

“There aren’t that many of them and those who do are ignoring everything you worked for so far. Your file is full of incredible achievements most will never see in their lifetimes. Rest assured that even if there is a small resistance, it will be of no remarkable influence over the rest. You are probably the only agent of the Golden Throne to have this many supporters on all sides. Your impeccable record is worthy of respect and that much is acknowledged across all Ordo branches.”

“Except for maybe the most radical ones.” Xavier chimes in and you glance at him, feeling a dry smile pull at your lips even behind the mask. Silas scoffs and waves his hand in dismissal.

“So what, let them. Majority will support electing Volenta for the task, I have no doubt.”

“Then I will trust your judgement, I have been… out of the loop as of late, so to speak.” Inquisitor Calcazar finishes his cup too, putting it down and rising his eyes to Ravonir. “And I will trust you to make sure that Volenta is prepared for both the promotion and her role at Senatorum Imperialis, as I am incapable of lending a helping hand with either.” Despite Xavier’s even, calm tone as per usual, you hear smallest tension in spoken words and in how carefully he looks at your mentor, studying the man in front of him.

“Of course, of course. You can put your faith in me, I haven’t misled her yet, have I?” Ravonir smiles to you and you incline your head politely.

“No, Silas.”

“Perfect. Now, if you don’t mind going to my chambers and fetching something for me, I’d be grateful.”

You stand immediately, being the last one to put your cup down, and you don’t waste time to latch your mask appropriately before offering Silas your ear. He whispers coded numbers of datafiles and you nod, step aside, then salute both Inquisitors and leave without another word. You feel a hint of worry as you walk off, but you can do nothing about it, just obey your order.

They both watch you go, your cloak floating lightly behind you, silver Inquisitorial letter bright on black fabric and finally when you exit the lounge Silas turns to Xavier.

“So, she was injured yesterday.” He says with less joy than what he held in his tone for most of the conversation. Xavier turns to Silas and nods, leaning back in the chair and knitting his fingers together. “She seems alright today.”

“She’s full of pain medication. I made sure that she’s not suffering. It was a chainsword wound, by evening time she will be in pain again, but I have another dose for her.”

Silas eyes narrow slightly as he looks at Xavier.

“Do you know how I became an Inquisitor Lord of Ordo Hereticus, Xavier?”

“Some tales, but do enlighten me.” Xavier responds as usual, but he senses the rising tension and something about this line of conversation doesn’t feel right. Silas is getting to a point, yes, but what kind of a point, now that the High Interrogator is out of the earshot?

“By not being blind and deaf. And thinking on occasion.” A sneer twists Ravonir’s smile and Xavier narrows his flesh eye at the man.

“I presume you are about to let me know why exactly you’re telling me this.” Fingers that he still has intertwined squeeze harder but unnoticeably.

“You might think me a fool, Xavier and I understand that my light-hearted outward demeanor might suggest so, but you are mistaken if you think I haven’t noticed Volenta’s reverence towards you.” Silas continues and Xavier lets him, feeling increasing unease but showing none of it. “I understand that she feels utmost respect to you, not only because you noticed her talents at Astra Millitarum, but also because you took her in, mentored her and then made a hard decision to give her to Ordo Hereticus where her skills were further polished in tandem with her natural gifts. I also understand your natural desire to push her to her limits and make sure that she does her best and achieves everything that she possibly can in her line of work. I respect that.”

Xavier pauses, now sensing where this is going but deciding he has no other option but to play along. A servo skull zooms by as if signaling the Inquisitor to reply.

“I appreciate your words. Yes, I am focused on her success. I believe her success is that of my own, therefore my interests lie deeply in her career.”

“But not her career only, is it?” Smile from Silas face drops entirely and only an inquisitory look remains in his eyes, sharp and unyielding. “She wasn’t late because you had a task for her, unless that task is warming your bed.”

A moment of pure rage and Calcazar nearly reacts upon it, nearly slams his power armor clad fist onto the table, already seeing it break in his mind’s eyes, yet he remains seated and only allows himself a small smirk.

“That is a strong accusation, Silas.”

“Is it an accusation?”

“You sound like you wish it not to be.”

“I sound like someone who deals in facts, not fiction. I don’t invent theories, Xavier, and I know neither do you, so let’s cut to the chase, hm?”

Xavier’s jaw clenches for a moment as he and Silas stare each other down like two beasts about to lunge at each other, but in the end he just sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I will admit, Silas, I’m impressed it took you so long to speak about these suspicions of yours.” At these words Silas smiles and Xavier rises an eyebrow, curious why there’s a smile and not a victorious glee of sorts.

“Suspicions, right. If you think I don’t know my own pupil, my own right-hand woman, then you truly must think me a fool.”

“Now you’re just making assumptions.”

Suddenly Ravonir chuckles and rises his hand to stop Xavier from speaking further. It’s a polite gesture, not like the one he uses with his acolytes.

“Please, Xavier, let’s be men and be clear with each other. While others see your deep interest in Volenta as fatherly protection, I see the way you react when even I touch her. You’re not just protective, you’re jealous.”

Xavier manages a sneer as if sizing Silas up, wondering if he could take the Inquisitor on in a fight. Despite feeling insulted and angry, he still hopes it won’t come to that.

“And if that’s the truth, does that make you jealous?”

“Not at all, I am her mentor and my feelings towards Volenta are completely pure. However, considering she’s never seen in company of other men and there’s no talks about anyone conquering her bed, well… Most just think her, what’s the word…” Silas taps his chin with a finger, thinking for a moment. “Stuck-up, I think is the term I heard some use in terms of Volenta.” Xavier’s jaw grinds as he listens and Ravonir smiles, noticing. “Quite, but at least you can rely on her loyalty to you, yes?”

“Silas, whatever you imagine is going on between me and her-“

“Imagine?” He cuts the Inquisitor short and Xavier barely resists asserting himself, his fury raging hot within him at the insolence of being interrupted like this. “I don’t imagine anything, Xavier. But point remains, I need you to tell me the truth. And I prefer no lies this time, I need to know if you’re a liability before I promote her and send her off to the Senatorum Imperialis.”

Calcazar swears in his mind, the ugliest swears he can think of when it comes to Silas Ravonir. Clever, very clever he is in cornering Xavier like this and he hates that he didn’t see it coming, too distracted by other things, mainly your recent presence.

“No, I’m not her weakness, if you will allow me to put it in more honest terms. You know her almost as well as I do.”

“But not as intimately.”

A pause, a moment of truth, and finally Xavier makes a decision.

“No.”

“You’re a formidable and respected man, Xavier, but I need to know that she is ready to function at highest capacity and without guidance. Do you think she’s ready?” Silas studying gaze doesn’t show his emotions, but it is clear that the man is not up in arms at finally having his suspicions confirmed. For Xavier this is a hard question to answer, and he remains silent for a long moment before slowly exhaling, then slightly nodding.

“She has been ready years ago.”

“I’m delighted to hear that.” Silas smiles and claps his hands together, leaning back in his chair. “Wonderful news, if I am honest. However, I am curious about one more thing, if you’ll allow me?”

“I’d like for this conversation to remain just between of us, in full discretion, but I am sure I don’t have to tell you that?” Xavier immediately says and Silas nods, then picks up the recaf pot and weights it in his hand before refilling both his and Calcazar’s cups.

“Of course, of course! We’re colleagues and Volenta’s best interests are at my heart.” He places the pot down and picks up the cup, looking Xavier straight in the eyes. “It’s good that I don’t have to worry about you being her weak spot, but is she yours?”

Xavier pauses and nearly stops breathing. He never thought about his companion, about his dearest pupil, in these terms before. So he thinks for a moment, imagining countless scenarios where High Interrogator can be used against him, or even used to act against him, and with a sinking heart he realizes that yes…

…his weakness is you.

[ask-jaghatai-khan]

MK11 Roster ranked for Warhammer

// Since I’m on a Mortal Kombat kick. How would each character from the Mortal Kombat 11 vanilla roster fair in either Warhammer? I’m keeping it to the playable roster since all the DLC characters haven’t been revealed yet and I didn’t want to have this post be five miles long. Might do more in the future, however.

Let’s face it, most of these psychos are gonna do pretty well. They regularly get into punch-outs with gods. The biggest problem will likely be which attitudes get them singled out by their allies.

Jade

40k: Decently well. She has many of the makings of an Imperial Inquisitorial acolyte or an Eldar Exarch. Extreme combat skill and mild psychic power are usual marks of greatness. Also very good at subtle politicking. Might be a bit of a pushover though.

AoS: Even better! Less stigma over her magical abilities, slightly more reasonable allies, and less likely to have to fight power-armored super soldiers.

Erron Black

40k: You can already play as this guy in Dark Heresy. Pretty much any Rogue Trader would be happy to hire this guy, and he’s too stupid to be bribed with anything other than cash.

AoS: Limited opportunities due to lack of good personal guns. Might get on well in some kind of mercenary group from Chamon or Hysh, but his rogue nature still wouldn’t earn him many connections.

Kabal

40k: Super-speed and melee skill are good, but only get you so far. If nobody grabbed him as an assassin, he’d still make a killing as a gang boss, and I think he’d be fine with that.

AoS: Probably even better chances of success, but it’s gonna be sucky with those third-degree burns given the lack of things like high-end prosthetic rebreather masks.

Kung Lao

40k: Kung Lao is absolutely a Rogue Trader/Dark Heresy character. He’s gonna get a lot of weird looks, but assuming that hat can cut through power armor, he’ll probably get on just fine. His big mouth might earn him some enemies, though.

AoS: Again, since he uses a low-tech weapon and martial arts, he’s even better in a fantasy setting. The entire Shaolin Temple would do pretty well for themselves in the Mortal Realms.

Sub-Zero

40k: A cryomancer? Seems suspect of heresy. Then again, a cryomancer who hates the undead and can fight as good as an assassin? Seems like prime Inquisitorial material!

AoS: Nagash’s grip is cold, but if Sigmar can get the Lin Kuei on his side, he’s got a lot to gain. Kuai Liang is as great a leader as he is a warrior and mage.

Scorpion

40k: Absolutely corrupted by Chaos, but I think most Chaos Lords would still be reluctant to run into Hanzo Hasashi. Less of a chance he could redeem himself, but even more of a chance for him to wreak absolute havoc on anyone who tries and betray him. Hellfire is plentiful in 40k.

AoS: A better chance for redemption, and even more utility from his ninja skills on top of the hellfire. Whoever has their grips on Scorpion’s soul, whether it’s Nagash or Chaos, better double-check just how strong that grip is.

Cetrion

40k: She’s a god! On the scale of 40k, she’s at a bit of a disadvantage, but being a god is never gonna hurt. She better just steer clear of Slaanesh.

AoS: Again, she’s a god! Set up shop in Ghyran and kick back with Alarielle in the “kill absolutely anybody who messes with our utopia” clubhouse.

Frost

40k: Cryomancer cyborg assassin is hardly the weirdest profession in 40k, and her conniving nature should help her out plenty whether she wants to work with the AdMech, DarkMech, or some other group of bastards.

AoS: Shame she couldn’t keep the robot body, but cryomancer assassin is still more than enough to raise some hell in the Mortal Realms. Nagash’s clubhouse seems most her style.

Baraka

40k: This guy would do well as King Mook of a group of Chaos mutants. That’s pretty much what he is anyways.

AoS: Same meat, different sausage. Being a half-demon warlord may not make you immortal, but it’s hardly a disadvantage.

Raiden

40k: His character and storyline makes him a solid fit for a high-end Inquisitor. Psychic might and leadership skills, with a tendency to turn into a psychotic templar? Tell me that doesn’t sound like a classic Inquisitor.

AoS: As a storm-god, he’d get on even better. He might even have the makings of a mighty Sacrosanct wizard. He’s already attuned to Azyr!

D’Vorah

40k: By the standards of some xenos races, she’s not really a top concern, but D’Vorah knows this and would make the most of what she has. Everyone’s so concerned about Chaos and Tyranids, they don’t even notice when they’re suddenly overrun by the Kytinn.

AoS: Set up in some blighted corner of Ghyran, out of sight but with plenty of foolish heroes to snack on, D’Vorah would do about as well as she’s done in Outworld.

Jax

40k: Eat your heart out, Straken. Or rather, eat your arm off. Jax has all the makings of a Guard commander, though his heart might be a bit too soft to finish his career free of scars to his mind and soul.

AoS: I’m sure someone in Chamon or Hysh could hook the man up with some new arms. Either that, or he’d make for a good Stormcast!

Geras

40k: Who the hell is this guy? Does he work for the Necrons? The Ordo Chronos? Wherever he came from, that archaeotech is going to make him a nightmare for whoever gets in the way of his inscrutable goals.

AoS: Even weirder! He must be some Age of Myth construct left behind in Hysh. Maybe a fractured remnant of a lost God of Law? Either way, he’d probably be more akin to a terrain obstacle in Underworlds than a regular enemy.

Kano

40k: There’s about fifty of this bastard on every world in the Imperium. Maybe he’d help out Chaos, but at the end of the day the Black Dragon is all Kano needs. His smug mug is going to be on wanted posters from Terra to Ultramar.

AoS: Who the hell keeps smuggling Chaos Dwarf cannons into Azyr? What maniac stole a warehouse’s load of weaponry from Hammerhal and sold them to damn greenskins?! If that bastard even looks at a Stormvault I want at least three merc companies sent to hunt him down!

Cassie Cage

40k: The Imperium loves legacy careers! Explains where she gets all those fancy toys from. Inheriting her dad’s mouth is going to make her time in the Schola rough, though.

AoS: A loyal ranger best suited for exploring Stormvaults and hunting down powerful champions. Chaos Lords best not underestimate her, she’s more than meets the eye.

Kotal Kahn

40k: Thank god we managed to find a governor able to rein control of that sector. Not often someone can purge Chaos that efficiently, especially a Feral World-born. Keep an eye on him in case of further developments, however...

AoS: The last of the Osh-Tekk might not worship Sigmar, but he’s a mighty and ruthless ally in the fight against Chaos and undead encroachment. A powerful priest and warrior of the light.

Skarlet

40k: Chaos could always use more assassins. You’d think more people would be looking into blood magic, but the rarity of it just means less competition and counters. Skarlet is every Inquisitor’s worst nightmare.

AoS: Same blood, different vein! Powerful dark magic and assassin skills are hard to knock.

Sonya Blade

40k: A peerless and loyal leader of the Guard. Maybe her choice of friends isn’t the cleanest, but her results can hardly be blamed.

AoS: The Free Peoples always need more competent generals, and even mortal leaders are expected to be able to kick some ass one-on-one. Even if she gets demolished, I think Sigmar was waiting for an excuse to reforge her.

Johnny Cage

40k: Movie stars aren’t so popular in the Imperium, but shining examples of the might of the common man over the unknowable alien? That’s good, even if he never shuts up. Charisma and fighting skill will get you far even if you’re surrounded by enemies. Probably for the best he gets Sonya on his side, though.

AoS: Less likely to be killed for snarky blasphemy! Also everyone’s so damn serious all the time, mockery would probably make for as effective a weapon as magical fists.

Noob Saibot

40k: I swear I’ve seen this type of guy before in Chaos’ toolbox. A shadow-daemon sorcerer assassin? Subtlety is a rare trait among Chaos,  so it might make for a powerful advantage.

AoS: There are some parts of Ulgu best avoided. Laugh at the name all you want, just not if you’re standing in the shadows.

Kollector

40k: Mutant or xenos, his ass-kissing skills will serve him well when he inevitably sets himself up with some Chaos Lord. Obviously without plentiful Forge Worlds to draw from, it would best suit your unholiness to hire someone who can scavenge much valuable plunder, yes?

AoS: Hardly different. Having a sticky-fingered mutant to oversee the finances of your kingdom leaves more time for a Chaos Lord to stick to taking skulls and planning conquests.

Kitana

40k: This character absolutely already exists in 40k. Planetary governor turned out to be a heretic? Well thank the Emperor his assassin daughter is amicable!

AoS: Fan blades seem like something a Khainite would enjoy, but thankfully Kitana is more restrained. Diplomatic skill, martial might, and a cool weapon gimmick will help her fit right in!

Jacqui Briggs

40k: Another military legacy, which is always a benefit. Also extremely skilled in combat and making inter-service connections. Probably has a better chance at a legit command position due to her personality over Cas, who’d be better relegated to black ops.

AoS: Again, great warriors and generals are always in high demand. As a commander of the Freeguild or the Stormcast, Jacqui even looks like one of the new warrior-women models GW likes to release nowadays.

Liu Kang

40k: Another mighty champion from outside the Astartes for a change. Liu Kang has protagonist energy, and even if kung-fu is rare in 40k, that’s enough to get you pretty far. Especially when he has such powerful friends.

AoS: More chances to flex those fists, less stigma around summoning fire and turning into a dragon, and he’s still a trusted friend of many generals and demigods.

[aly-the-writer]

Starbound - Prologue

Ao3 | More Tusin Shade | Chapter 1

Tusin Shade - Darth Nox of the Empire's Dark Council - has become entangled in a plot that could destroy the galaxy thanks to the Revanite plot. His willingness to continue helping has almost nothing to do with Lana's new Republic ally...almost.

I’ve seen worse.

He was intelligent, handsome and more difficult to get a read on than most without the tell-tale signs in his presence that made some SIS agents stand out like beacons. Even if he hadn’t proven himself to be extremely interesting when he opted to save a member of the Dark Council from a watery grave Tusin probably would’ve flirted.

I’m oddly flattered. Not even going to consider it, of course, but flattered.

He hadn’t sounded flattered – he’d sounded confused, maybe a little alarmed. Unable to tell if the agent’s tension was because of his Imperial allies, his superior’s betrayal or the flirting Tusin had meant to let it drop entirely: Such things were only fun if they were returned.

The teasing comment on his relief at finding his allies alive (and getting Jakarro off his ship) combined with the exhaustion and the slightly heady feeling the medications he was on for the injuries sustained on Rakata Prime had caused another flirty remark to spring to his lips without thought.

That time Theron Shan had seemed a little more receptive, if not less shy then but...

“Oh, you’re looking gloomy, Darth Sparky-Death,” the bright blue twi’lek plopped onto his desk where he translating a stone tablet, or had been attempting to prior to his distractions, before pointing at a symbol, “Isn’t that one ‘treasure’?”

“What? No. It’s ‘secrets’…I think,” he said setting his stylus down to rub at his face. The chrono displayed the time: it’d been three hours since he’d been up and about, no wonder his still-healing ribs were protesting with how he’d been hunched over the desk. He’d only meant to be at the translation for a quarter of that time.

“That means treasure with you Sith anyways,” she grinned, prodding at another artifact on the desk with her finger. “So, how come you look like a bantha ran you over? You didn’t let a bantha run you over again, right?”

“No bantha’s this time. I picked a fight with a rancor.”

Vette winced, even Pyron and Kassie tended to walk away with bruises when they tangled with one of those monsters and the twin Sith Warriors were considerably more skilled at the bludgeoning and death act than their Inquisitor friend was.

Actually, now that she considered it, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Tusin in a fight to know if his lack of lightsaber skills were as detrimental as he claimed they were. Also he seemed to be set to survive longer than the other newly installed Dark Council members - even that Arkous guy hadn’t lasted long.

Still that didn’t explain why he’d been staring off into the air rather than actually studying his artifact. He tended to be pretty one-track once he had a new ancient tablet to decipher.

“Okay, so what’s their name?”

“Why would I know the rancor’s name?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, the one you were trying to impress by killing the rancor.”

He and Vette had been friends since she’d first ended up as one of Kassie’s and Pyron’s crew. They’d been introduced on the shuttle from Korriban to the Imperial fleet. He’d been glad to show his friends the correct way to remove the shock collar and had pulled Vette aside in the hangar when they landed to give her some kolto-infused cream to help with the scarring. It’d not been until later she’d learned why he’d thought to give it to her.

“Who said I was trying to impress anyone with rancor killing? Do I seem like someone who kills rancors to impress people?”

She tried to give him a flat, stern look but started laughing instead. “Okay then, don’t tell, Mister Secret-and-Mysterious. You’ll probably get distracted with your work and neglect them again anyways.”

He made a face, “Ashara and Cytharet are very happy with their new partners. That’s what matters.”

“And you’re not jealous of them at all,” she mused. “Which means you already fell hard for someone else. Or you’d still be all grouchy and sparky and annoying like you were before you got recruited to invade Tython.”

“I am not always grouchy and sparky, you know.”

“You are when you’re single,” Vette dismissed with a wave of her hand, eyes dancing with laughter. “Okay, since you won’t tell me their name: guy or gal?”

After a moment’s debate as to whether he wanted to make the Twi’lek double down on the stubborn or if he should relent: “Guy.”

“So it’s not the pretty blond that everyone claims killed Arkous,” she mused. “Guess that means I owe Pyron.”

“Or you could stop betting on my dating life?”

“Where’s the fun there though?” she grinned. Then looked up as the Sith warrior she was dating poked his head into the office.

“Aftenoon, Tusin,” he greeted. “Vette, you ready to go?”

“Whenever you are, boss,” she grinned, hopping up, walking backwards after the Lord Wrath inform the Darth Nox: “Also, you’re going to tell me a name next time. No escaping telling me everything, Darth Sparky.”

“I hear you, Lady Nosy,” he smiled making a ‘shooing’ motion.

 The first time he’d spotted the man on the laboratory’s security feed he’d been shocked. Red skinned, gold eyed, of a tall and lean build, dressed in very plain black robes. Not that Lana’s strike team consisting of a Pureblood had been a surprise – it was the man’s identity:

Darth Nox. Youngest of the Dark Council, five or six years Theron’s junior. Half of Theron’s bosses wanted to arrange to have the youngster assassinated. There were fears about what Darth Marr was grooming the young man into given the young sorcerer’s meteoric rise to power.

After Manaan he’d pulled some strings to get a copy of the file the SIS had on him it was far less barren than the one for Lana Beniko, although not quite as varied as those of Jakarro or C2-D4.

It’d been an interesting read: the pureblood had been considered as a potential asset, prior to the Jedi labeling him ‘unredeemable’ following an incident on Taris with the Order, anyways. How did one go from hunted by their own people to the Council?

Not to mention he was hot.

The slight smirk of his lips, the way those gold eyes gleamed with interest, but it was an interest that Nox kept in check, as if believing Theron found it unwelcome after his reaction on Manaan the first time. He’d backed off until exhaustion had distracted him into a misstep.

If I didn’t know any better, Theron, I’d think you were somewhat infatuated with me…

The smirk and playful gleam in his gaze had been attractive – he’d have to be blind not to see that Darth Nox was that – but the way he trailed over the name like it was a delicacy that he had to savor had sent a thrill up his spine. Unsure what to do with the knowledge that he was definitely getting a little hot under the collar for a Dark Lord he opted to deny it enthusiastically and beat a blushing escape.

“I believe he is single,” Lana commented, noticing that Theron had gotten lost in his thoughts while looking over the same data file again.

Theron’s eyes widened, color rising in his cheeks, “What? Why does that matter? I’m not interested in him.”

Lana observed him with amusement. “Of course not. I think I’ve found the data that we’ve been looking for though.”

Theron got up, abandoning his musings on the Dark Lord to see what Lana had found. “Looks like we’re headed to Rishi. How do you want to get in contact with our red friend?”

[a-drama-addict]

codex askss 2 for emira, 8 for chronos, 1 for therése and 15 for chloe!

YESSSS YESSSSS [ask game]

Emira | 2. a letter written by your OC’s family member

Em,

Haven't heard from you in ages, which is worrying because your ass usually doesn't go quiet easily. The amount of trees that could've been saved if you just showed a sign of life.

Things in the alienage have been quiet too. I think our people still move with the way you do.

Soris and Valora missed you at their anniversary. I did too. Andraste's ass, can't you just reply? Leliana won't either. But that's just how Leliana is these days, isn't she?

Best of luck to you wherever you may be.

With love,

Shianni

— A letter written by Hahren Shianni, Bann of Denerim's Alienage, dated 9:41 Dragon

Chronos | 8. your OC’s doctor/healer talking about their injuries

Patient notes - Inquisitor Adaar

Inquisitor Adaar sustained an injury last mission he went on, going to stop the Grey Wardens. He lost his leg.

Decapitated just below the knee

Nasty nerve damage

Has to rest for at least 4 weeks, ideally 8

Give him whiskey for the pain, won't do much but it's better than nothing

The Iron Bull insist he'll take care of the Inquisitor. Said he's dealt with lost limbs before. Better him than me, Inquisitor's pissed. Least it wasn't his sword arm. Well, staff arm I suppose.

— A note written by the surgeon in Skyhold, the paper is crumpled and there's some dry blood on it. There's also a doodle of a bee- distinctly done in a different pen.

Therése | 1. an overheard conversation about your OC

Recruit: She... She killed her father?

Senior Warden: Most have done worse.

Recruit: No, no I've heard worse before. But killing her father- burning down the house she killed him in, then killing two of the guards that tried to arrest her?

Senior Warden: Thorne had her reasons. We instilled the right of conscription before she got hung.

Recruit: She killed three people!

Senior Warden: And she has killed a thousand more darkspawn since then. Not everyone's recruited because their sword arm's good, some people have a past.

— An overheard conversation in the Hossberg Wetlands, circa 9:52 Dragon, right before the siege of Weisshaupt.

Chloe | 15. a letter to your OC from a companion they haven’t seen in a while

Muffin,

I know, I know, 'You promised to stay in touch, tall guy! Hanged Man's boring without you!' and you're right. It always is.

Heard things were going well in Kirkwall though, so figures you don't need me. Fenris sent a letter few weeks back, said you gave your regards. Glad he still visits you.

In the same vein, Isabela sends her regards to you, says she misses you. And a few words I dare not repeat. Something about your ass, something about a phallus.

I've got a solid lead on Solas, got a good team for it too. Ever heard of Neve Gallus? Best damn detective I've ever met. Harding, one of the Inquisition scouts, is here too. And got a new one, a good one. Kinda reminds me of you, just not nearly as beautiful, strong, or iconic.

When we stop Solas, I'll be back. Next batch of drinks are on me. I'll bring Isabela too.

Always yours,

Varric Tethras

— A letter written by author Varric Tethras, adessed to the Champion of Kirkwall, Chloe Hawke, dated 9:51 Dragon.