#dav barks

[barkingbarghest]

Honestly the best reward that veilguard can give me for doing main quest stuff is more of the gang's book club notes. Thank you Bellara for being the note taker I owe you my life

[bunabi]

How is Miss Virelle doing! 😭 I’m not sure if you mentioned what she ended up doing post-dav! 🥺

Aww thanks for asking!

Let's see....I don't really know honestly lol. She was so unlike herself that I don't know how to incorporate Veilguard into what I've been doing with her these past ten years.

Especially since (dav spoiler warning) the Inquisitor + a series of temporary alliances seems to be what's holding the South together. So I'd like her to continue helping people? But she deserves to rest. Not an Eternal Isolation With Her Situationship kind of rest, but to go back to her family for a while, slow down a little, travel a bit.

I've been having fun shipping her and Cillian thee Arcane Warrior. I'll just keep doing that until I figure the rest out. 🥺

How are you guys approaching it? I've seen folks treat DAV as non-canon but I just can't do it. I'd rather work with the story we got than try to build an entirely new one. It's not exactly what I wanted but it has fun bits and at least Felassan was there.

[americankimchi]

this entire conversation with morrigan is just my rook going

just witnessed all of solas's "regrets" and truly after every single one i'm like. damn am i supposed to feel sorry for this clown bc LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO it's called consequences baby!!!!!! no wonder his name is the elven word for pride HJKDGHFJGH

[drakonovisny]

FRESCOS!!!!!

[starfishsonny]

kinderwhore yolay caprese!!

[tench]

I'm in awe of the quest where Rook and co decided to stabilise a very iffy looking artifact in front of the statue of the very corrupted god they are fighting, surrounded by notes of the veil jumper describing how old trapped entity is talking to him. And when that artifact spawned them a body suspended in midair in t-pose, they decided just... Leave. "The forest will sort it out".

Like, this is insane for a person who accidentally set free two corrupted ancient elven gods. Now she's doing it on purpose!!

[ndostairlyrium]

From the Rook questions: which NPCs does Ellie like? Which ones do they dislike?

Oh hello you!!! <3 thanks for the ask!! **

Rook Questionnaire

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

Ah, he likes SO MANY :'D

Excluding family (Myrna and Vorgoth), he goes along very well with Antoine, has a strong respect for Strife, and really wishes to get close to Rana, but his absolute favorite is Evka. He saw the hammer and thought "I want to be her when I grow up / I will never mess with this woman".

He "dislikes" the Inquisitor, because she was blind to whatever Solas was doing in Skyhold, for then designate someone else to clean up her mess. It's her fault if Varric got hurt and the gods "escaped" their prison, forcing a half-prepared rookie to make terrible choices to save the day.

He also "dislikes" Elek, because he's part of the consequences of his greatest failure so far (prioritized Treviso during act 1). He hates what he represents for the future of a Minrathous without a strong political infrastructure.

It's something more intimate than simple dislikes, basically.

Ellie is more disliked than he dislikes, tho. I don't know if that makes sense? lol

[endawn]

this game would be so much better if pax was an actual companion

[elfyroot]

I've been working on some Felassan swaps for Veilguard (using the Davrin Character Swaps by IBSammy on Nexus as inspiration to begin with). Mostly to give him outfits that are a little more his canon-vibe, along with giving him weapons that would fit (it's still warrior shield/sword but now they're more elfy ;) )

They are WIP atm but see what I mean below... would this be something people would like me to post on Nexus/here once it's done?

First using a mish-mash of a civ outfit, dalish/arlathan weapons and mage belt. I had a texture remake for the outfit to begin with.

Second is a mish-mash of rogue cloak, starting veil jumper gear and mage belt. The recolors / retexture is in progress (and hiding that little dangly tie). Also there's another shield that's smaller with Dalish vibes but need to get it working.

Would want to put together maybe one more outfit but we'll see. Just wanted to see if anyone was interested in me posting it at the end.

I also have a glowing eyes in combat mod for my Inky as Rook that could posssssibllllyy be added in as well.

[danielnelsen]

ok well the second game (the previous one was the third game) was way too easy, i did the whole thing in one try

WHEW

wish i could show my 14 year old self this

[barkingbarghest]

i've been taking SO many screenshots this game is SO pretty and photo mode has got my back here are a few from like, the first few hours

[cursedhaglette]

Please tell me your thoughts about Felassan and Solas’s relationship so much of it is left for us to fill in!!

okay beautiful one. the masked empire is literally so slow. i'm bored of it and know how it ends so i'm gonna tackle this without finishing it because i'm a strong brave girl. you heard it here first.

felassan is such a babe, first of all. let me get that out of the way. his intro being "yeah we used to eat medicinal bark back in the day. not this shit though" and just putting the bark he chewed back on the tree? icon. legend. "yeah i'm...dalish..." okay felassan, you've charmed me.

as for felassan and solas, well that sure is the question, isn't it? i think in a lot of ways, it feels like felassan is representative of the traits that solas loses when he loses mythal. felassan's sense of duty and compassion never seem to waver, never lose focus. even when he denies solas the passcode to the eluvians, it is because he believes it is what's best for the elves. solas is mired in his pride and his duty, his guilt and everything going on with mythal that tangles through that, but felassan doesn't seem to suffer from the same... distractions? (idk if that's necessarily the right word?) if solas is the mind, felassan is the heart. you need both to make the kind of change that is right for an entire race of people.

and i think in some ways, that's why solas needs the inquisitor to step into the position of 'heart' (even if unromanced!) where felassan fell. to redeem solas and save the world as it is, solas has to have both, he cannot win with wisdom and pride alone. would he have with felassan still by his side? who can say - maybe trick i guess.

anyway idk if any of this made sense! but it's my personal take on the matter based on what we have from TME, DAI, and DAV. i also definitely think felassan and solas explored each others bodies during the rebellion. look at them. they'd be fools not to. why hasn't someone written an after battle hurt/comfort/smut for them. i can't do everything myself.

lastly the "solas is bi but doesn't date men anymore because he's haunted by fumbling felassan so bad" joke that was going around is also so good i think it's become my personal headcanon too so add that to the list. okay that's all for real

[dominimoonbeam]

I'm working on the David/Hux amnesia fic, I Don't Know You, and it got me rereading the David/Hux get together fic, What are you doing here?

Snippet from the first fic. <3

-

David shifted human and jumped down. “Stop moving!”

Huxley sat up but had to stop to catch his breath, pressing his eyes shut like the world was spinning.

David crouched beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Just breathe for a minute.”

Huxley did, but the breaths didn’t come easily, like his chest was too tight.

David looked back up at the ledge, imagining him falling backward off that. “Can I touch you?”

Huxley blinked at him, glancing once at his hand still on his shoulder.

David scoffed. “To check if you broke anything.”

It took him a few seconds too long to answer. David couldn’t tell if that was hesitation or a concussion, but then he shrugged and nodded. “Sure, but you don’t have to. Arms and legs are fine. I can get out of here.”

David snorted, doubting that. He was moving too stiffly to be able to just climb out of there like it was no big deal. He kept the hand on Huxley’s shoulder to hold him steady while the other gently touched his head through thick curls that had mostly escaped their messy tie. Huxley winced when David’s fingers brushed the cut on the back of his head. David muttered an apology.

“You might have a concussion…”

“Oh, I’m definitely concussed, dude.”

“How the hell would you know?” he argued even though the elemental was agreeing with him. David continued to roam his fingers down the back of the guy’s neck, watching his face for reactions.

Huxley smiled. “If they gave out punch cards for concussions, I’d have so many free yogurts by now.”

David continued to stare, not sure if that made sense or not. “I guess that explains a lot about you,” he spat and saw the other man’s expression when his words hit. His smile fell, a polite ghost of what it had been just seconds ago, and his eyes looked away, down. “I’m sorry,” David said, voice low with regret. He hadn’t actually meant to hurt this stranger’s feelings. He was just… well, he was an asshole sometimes. “I didn’t mean that.”

Huxley shrugged, easy expression back in place. He winced when David’s hand was low on his back.

“How did you land?”

“Hard?” Huxley smirked.

David tried not to. “Har har, asshole.”

“On my back, I think. No, hip first, then back.”

“And then head?”

“I don’t remember hitting my head.”

David frowned. Great. At least Huxley hadn’t passed out, thrown up, or started rambling yet. He let go of his shoulder and unzipped the elemental’s jacket.

Milo snapped off a bark and a growl somewhere overhead, warning off the bear when she got curious.

Huxley jerked a little, his gaze going high and toward the woods up there. “It didn’t bite me.”

David lifted the man’s shirt, getting a look at a huge patch of bruising on his side coming up from the waistband of his jeans and spreading over the side of his back. It looked bad, darker in spots where his ribs had taken the brunt of it. He ghosted a hand over them and the guy flinched away automatically, hissing a breath. Broken. He had at least two broken ribs. God, David hoped they weren’t puncturing anything. “What?”

“It didn’t. Just leave them alone.”

David put his shirt back down and looked at his face, wondering if his concussion was kicking in. What the fuck was he talking about? “Who? What are you—”

“The bear. She has cubs. She didn’t touch me so we can leave her alone, right?” I’ll climb down instead of going back up if—"

“Are you insane?” David snapped. Climb down? Maybe he hadn’t looked, but David had. If he hadn’t hit this ledge, or if he’d rolled a little farther, he would have fallen straight down a thirty-foot drop. There was no climbing down. He remembered the path of wreckage above, the overturned ground and the felled tree. “You didn’t hurt the bear.” It had been a choice. He could have but he hadn’t.

“It wasn’t her fault, man. She was just doing what she thought she had to.”

“Are you stupid?” David snapped before he could think better of it. Huxley winced. “You could have died!”

“I didn’t.”

“Because we found you! What if we hadn’t been in the area?” Although, if they hadn’t been in the area, David wouldn’t have pushed this guy out of the area he knew and straight toward a conflict with a bear. Guilt gnawed at the wolf’s heart, but Huxley didn’t even seem to think of that argument.

“I would have gotten up eventually, dude.”

David gawked. He was sure that if Huxley wasn’t injured, he would have shoved him.

“Not to downplay your help,” the elemental added again, as though worried for David’s feelings. It was salt on his wounds. “I really appreciate you guys coming all the way over here to check on me but I’m alright.”

“The hell you are,” David growled. He stood up and looked at the ledge. There were enough rocks piled together to create steps up to it. “Can you get up or do you want me to carry you?”

Huxley laughed before wincing and clutching at his side, still smiling despite the tears that pricked his eyes. “Don’t joke, dude. I think I busted a rib.”

He had busted two. “I’m not joking.”

Huxley dragged a couple careful breaths. “You can’t carry me, man.”

David stared at him, confused. “Yes. I can.”

Huxley met his gaze, looking for a joke and then…was he blushing? Huxley was a big guy. They were roughly the same size. David realized he was used to people being smaller than himself, which meant Huxley probably was too. David couldn’t remember the last time someone had carried him. It had probably been his dad. He pushed that thought away. He supposed Huxley wasn’t used to the idea of being carried. But David definitely could. If it wasn’t for those ribs, he would have already put him over his shoulder and started up the incline and back to the woods.

The bear left, Milo told him over their psychic link. Do you need help getting him out?

Huxley climbed to his feet and David caught is arm by the elbow just in case he fell. He swayed for a few seconds but then nodded, jaw tight as if determined to keep the world from swirling under him.

“So,” David said, trying to start some conversation that might help distract this guy from his own pain. “You fall off cliffs a lot?”

Huxley blinked at him.

“You said you’ve had a lot of concussions…”

Huxley huffed a thin, almost-laugh, and shuffled toward the stone wall. Every step he took looked stiff and pained, but he started climbing. “No, this is a first. I do a lot of sports though and I mean, I did fall out of a tree once. That was kind of like this.”

David laughed before he could stop himself. Jesus. Another Asher…

Milo stood at the top of the drop off in human form. He crouched and offered Huxley his arm.

Huxley blinked at the stranger and the arm. “I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t want to pull you down either…”

Milo looked confused.

David snorted, standing behind Huxley with hands hovering near his back. He didn’t want to touch or push if he didn’t have to, afraid it would hurt him more. “Milo this is Huxley, Huxley this is Milo,” he introduced them gruffly. “Milo could carry you if he needed to. You’re not going to pull him down even if you try.”

Milo’s gaze flicked between the two of them, his smile growing. David wasn’t sure if it was purely amusement or maybe a little pride too. If it was pride, then it deserved to be there. Milo wasn’t big for a wolf but he was still a wolf.

“Oh,” Huxley said in that odd tone that made David wonder if he was blushing again. He surprised himself by how much he wanted to see if he was. Huxley took Milo’s offered arm. “Nice to meet you, dude.”

“Same.” Milo carefully but steadily helped Huxley up over those last steps and onto the ground, not letting go of him until he was away from the edge.

“Thanks,” the elemental sighed, glancing around at the dark woods.

[starfishsonny]

jshshskwkek silly lil animatic of my dog man au,,!!!

[blackjackkent]

OK! Resuming our entry into the world of DAV, Helena Mercar edition:

So far I am finding it a rather different experience liveblogging DAV compared to BG3. I got very used to BG3 having a dialogue history to refer back to, and not having it definitely makes this all a lot more complex. DAV also seems to have more dialogue in walk-and-talk, which is a little more complicated to get good screenshots of and keep track of all the dialogue.

There also doesn't appear to be a quicksave/quickload? Which is... bizarre and I'm not a fan.

However, DAV has a photo mode out of the box and it seems pretty robust, so that's nice. :D

Anyway, welcome to Minrathous!

It's a cold, damp, drizzly night. Nothing unusual for Tevinter, or for Helena who is used to walking the dark alleyways of this city almost every night.

The searchlights from the Ring(*) are a bit of a surprise, though.

"The Archon's palace," Varric says, sounding unimpressed. "Something must've gotten them riled up."

Helena shrugs, falling into step with him. The folks up top are always pissed off about something, and it probably doesn't have anything to do with her threatening to rough up a random bartender all the way down here.

All the same, though, it makes her a bit uneasy. Not scared, mind you. Just... uneasy.

"Should we be in more of a hurry to get out of here?" she asks Varric casually.

"We don't want to look conspicuous," he answers, equally cool. "Just get out of here nice and casual, find Neve Gallus, and stop Solas."

(A/N: I'm not yet clear on exactly how Rook ended up helping Varric with this hunt. Varric calls her his 'second-in-command' but that could very well be a joke. Until the game contradicts it, I'm running on the assumption that Varric hired her as a local who knew the city, to help him track Neve down.)

"You still think you can talk him down before he starts his big ritual?" she asks curiously. Her tone is bantering, belying the seriousness of the subject matter.

She likes Varric, from what she's seen of him so far. He's less in-your-face than she is, but comfortably talkative - and a whiz with that crossbow. She suspects that under less apocalyptic circumstances, he might be fun to hang out with.

But... from what he's told her, these circumstances are pretty damn apocalyptic.

"That ritual is going to tear down the Veil," he says now, grimly. "The only thing separating us from the Fade and an endless number of demons. I *have* to talk him down."

As her face passes through the shadow of a nearby alleyway, Helena grimaces.

Again, it's not so much that she's scared. Course not. Scared is pointless; you either do things or you don't. You either live or you die, and there's no point in worrying about it ahead of time.

But it sure sounds like a hell of a shitty way to go.

Before she can make a sardonic comment about this, though, a siren sound splits the air, and one of the searchlights from the Ring comes to an abrupt halt near Helena's boots.

The light has fixed on one of the locals walking along the mud-drenched streets.

"YOU THERE! HALT!" barks a magically amplified voice.

"Wait! But I didn't do anything!" the woman sputters fearfully, as the other locals around her scatter away in terror.

"Get down!" Varric hisses, shoving Helena back against the alley wall behind her. They're still out of sight, just barely, watching as several guards sweep out of the darkness.

Shit, Helena thinks. "Are they after us? Is it because of the bar?" Why would the Archon give a shit about that?

"Word travels fast in Minrathous," Varric says tightly.

Helena flexes her fingers against her daggers, takes a step forward. "We've gotta help her," she says. Not the first time she's seen someone probably-innocent get swept up by the guards - or the first time she's stepped in.

But Varric shakes his head, pushes her backwards.

"We don't have time to get arrested," he mutters. "Especially if--"

He's cut off by a low, rumbling whirrrrrrr that resonates through the air strongly enough to prickle up goosebumps on Helena's skin. She looks up, and watches with astonishment as the air within the Ring... splits.

An unearthly pale green light floods the street, melding with the bright white of the searchlights.

"Ah, crap," Varric growls.

"We're too late--" Helena says faintly. Still not scared. Still not scared. But definitely... definitely starting to be concerned.

"The ritual's started. But if we hurry, we can still stop Solas before it finishes," Varric says curtly. He breaks into a jog, darting out from the alleyway back into the drizzling rain. "Let's go. Harding's up ahead. She'll get us to Dumat Plaza - then Neve will get us to Solas."

-----

(*) IDK if the locals have an in-game nickname for this thing but I am making the executive decision that Helena does. :D

[subspaceember]

The Fridge

"Huh, that's weird" said Dave. He was certain he'd already drunk one bottle of his favorite cheap beers, but opening the fridge this morning, there sat a full pack. Dave looked at the beer. The beer looked back. He rubbed his eyes and tried to remember last night. It was a late shift at work, something or another kept him at the office. Once he'd finally said bye to his coworkers all he wanted was a cold beer and his recliner. Dave was a man of simple pleasures, so he thought. He liked football and fried chicken.

Following the divorce he'd recently moved into a smaller house. It was nice enough and it even had a garage. In that garage, when Dave moved in, he noticed a refrigerator. He hadn't taken much notice of it, people leave things, he'd haul it off one day when he needed the space. Dave was not thinking about the fridge on his drive home. Nor when he stopped at the only store still open to buy beer. He did think about that fridge when he got back home, and remembered that thanksgiving was last week and that he'd ended up inviting his parents and brother over. The fridge in the kitchen was packed with a casserole, turkey, beans, the fridge was stuffed. "Damn" he said to no one in particular. Dave let out a heavy sigh; this was far too much to deal with on a Friday night. He pulled a bottle of out the pack and cracked it open, then he remembered. He had another fridge. He took a swig and headed to the garage, the fluorescent tubes buzzed to life and he walked over to the fridge. It was still plugged in, "oops, oh well". Opening the door he saw a pile of dead bugs, little flies of some kind, "goddamn infestation" Dave remarked, and grabbed a broom and swept them into a trash can. He made sure the fridge was on and getting cold, and put his 5 other beers on the middle shelf, proceeding to wander back to his chair and watched TV till he passed out.

And yet - there was a full pack of beer in the fridge. "Guess I'm just losing it" he said as he shut the door and walked back into the living room. "Must be imagining shit". As he walked past his armchair he heard the unmistakable sound of a bottle falling over, and there it was. The bottle from last night, still with condensation on it, rolling off under the couch. "What the fuck". Dave didn't believe in the supernatural as a rule, he loved to argue with people at bars about it but always insisted it was some hoax or publicity thing, maybe someone just wanted attention. However, the thought that his house was haunted by some sort of beer ghost went though his head; maybe some poor guy drank himself to death in there or something and he was exacting his revenge. A chill ran down his spine. Dave decided he had better figure this out, he couldn't damn well live anywhere with a beer ghost. He decided to do a bit of research, there was still some mail in the house from the previous tenant, so he knew a name to look up. He found the mail in the trash he'd yet to take out, it was a electric bill addressed to a Kathy S. Everson. He opened it. It was dated from earlier in the year and- good god the bill! It was almost a thousand dollars! What the hell was Kathy doing?

Dave decided to ask the neighbors, maybe they knew something. He walked out into the cold November air. The wind had a bite to it and threatened snow. He shivered. Walking up to his neighbors Dave rang the doorbell and waited, he could hear a dog barking and a woman opened the door. "Hello, can I help you?" she asked. "Afternoon" Dave guessed, "Name's Dave, I'm your new neighbor right across the way", and he pointed at his house. "Oh you've moved into Kathy's old house, that's nice, I'm glad it's going to good hands, my name is Jackie" she replied. "Mhmm, it's a nice place, uh - if you don't mind me asking, what happened to Kathy?" he asked. "Oh I think it was cancer or something like that, she wasn't young anymore, it happens to the best of us" she said. "Right right, but she didn't do anything odd or nothing?" Dave asked. "No I don't think so, not unless you count that mac and cheese of hers" Jackie replied. Dave gave a puzzled look. "Well it was just so good" said Jackie, "and she always had so much of it, a lot of food in general, old folks are like that sometimes, they like to feed people". Dave nodded, "right". "She'd have these big potluck dinners at the community center, Kathy did. She loved to feed the community". The gears started whirring away in Dave's head. "Is everything alright?" asked Jackie. "Yeah, everything's dandy" Dave responded "Nice meeting you", and he set back towards his home, wind nipping at his ears and nose.

Walking into his garage Dave starting inspecting the fridge. It looked, well it looked like shit frankly. It was ancient, just a big slab of metal, covered in dents and a bit rusty. It might have been white once, or some shade of beige. If there ever was a brand name it'd long fallen off. Dave tried to move it but it wouldn't budge, it looked like it'd started rusting into the floor at this point, and it probably weighed a ton. Dave opened the door again. There was a lightbulb inside that flickered on, revealing his beer again. The inside was pretty clean all things considered, and quite cold. "Huh". Dave did not do well in the sciences in high school or college, but he did remember when his teachers were lecturing on experiments and the like, and Dave decided he'd do an experiment. He removed his beer from the fridge, and looked around the various cardboard boxes littering his garage. In one he found an award from his college days, it was a small trophy, covered in dust and labeled "2nd Place - Men's Track and Field - April 6th 1981 - Dave Adderson". He placed it into the fridge, and headed back into the living room to watch the game.

The next day, Dave anxiously opened the fridge door and there sat two trophies, identical in every way, dust and all. He didn't quite know how or why, but there was one thing he did know. Dave Adderson now had a magical refrigerator that duplicated things.