#emmliches.

[svartr]

#20, but also: favorite food and drink

ROOK QUESTIONNARE.

would he side with solas or fight him ?

initially, he didn't like solas. at all. he threw jabs at him, got angry at him, called him out every chance he got. along the way, he did grow an understanding for solas. understood his point of view. didn't agree with it, but he understood. in the later acts, i think iskios even started to care about the dread wolf. started to, dare i say it, like him. enjoy his company. their talks. but then, the truth came out. the lies. the death. the blood magic. trapping him in the fade for two weeks. trading places, uncaring for what happened to rook. he sacrificed rook like he sacrificed all those other spirits, people. a necessary exchange. one that rook had no say in. he took away his choice and that ... is the biggest insult to someone who has lived his whole life without a choice. safe to say, he hates him now. he originally didn't like him because of his actions, how he treated the world, wanting to tear down the veil is a big decision that he made on his own. but now ? now it's personal. if you want iskios to be in a bad mood, just mention solas in any capacity.

favorite food and drink ?

hot chocolate. cold chocolate. coffee with chocolate. mocha!!!! iskios says he can eat chocolate for a meal, too. but if he had to pick something, then a dish from antiva ? i'd say dishes from his home but he can't remember them. i know he's fond of fish, but he doesn't know where that fondness comes from. they ate a lot of fish dishes on the island, perks of being surrounded by the sea. i know he likes sweets, but it's usually lighter sweets. doesn't like it when it's too sweet, if that makes sense. i know he likes pastries. enjoys treats like taiyaki, dorayaki, mochi. i've also noticed that iskios will eat pretty much anything. even if he doesn't like it, he'll still eat it. not sure if this is because he's trying to please others, or because he genuinely wants to. maybe a mix of both ? could also be because when he was within the venatori, food ... was scarce. held over his head. there are too many days that he spent starving, yet still forced to work. i do think that he's not a very adventurous eater on his own. not because he doesn't enjoy trying new things. just that it's a lot of work. it's easier to cook fish on a fire. or eat rations. in modern day, he'd very much be a orders take out for the rest of his existence kinda guy.

[svartr]

sitting  up  in  his  seat,  elf  turns  to  give  his  companion  an  apologetic  look.  knowing  how  excited  emmrich  had  been  before  the  play  started,  there's  a  hint  of  guilt  in  his  expression  upon  realizing  he'd  slept  throughout  the  entirety  of  the  anticipated  entertainment.

assassin  looks  to  his  left,  on  guard.  although  he  doubts  anything  will  occur  at  a  play  full  of  skeletons,  one  can  never  be  too  sure.  there  are,  after  all,  a  lot  of  people.  and  people  have  always  made  him  nervous.  living,  dead,  or,  otherwise.

the  idea  of  returning  to  the  lighthouse  doesn't  sound  all  that  appealing.  he  knows  what  awaits  him  there.  deafening  silence.  his  own  thoughts.  forced  solitude.

whilst  he  isn't  a  fan  of  large  crowds,  he  does  enjoy  the  company  of  one  or  two  others.  when  the  two  are  the  only  ones  left  in  their  row,  rook  looks  over  at  the  necromancer.  "  do  we  have  to  go  back  already  ?  "

leaning  over,  he  lowers  his  voice,  doesn't  want  any  possible  listeners.  a  practiced  habit  formed  through  his  years  of  being  with  the  crows,  secrecy  is  a  necessity  on  all  accounts  when  one  made  a  living  by  slitting  the  throats  of  others.

"  we  should  stretch  our  legs.  a  walk  around  the  garden  sounds  nice.  "  a  lighthearted  activity,  a  striking  contrast  to  what  one  might  picture  when  they  think  of  the  antivan  crows,  and  what  sort  of  hobbies  they  might  have.  "  the  lighthouse  is  so  ..  "  he  chooses  not  to  finish  his  sentence.

@svartr asked: ❛ how long have i been asleep? ❜ 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (accepting)

“The better part of the evening, I’m afraid.” 

The hall erupts in a wash of claps. Up on stage, some ghoulish Nevarran play. Skeletons bow adorned in honey-drip gold and in the crowd, a cornucopia of cigarette holders, candles like disco balls punching holes in the dark.

It was a classic tragedy. Emmrich had told him he had business to attend to at home, but that wasn’t all. He’s seen Rook, heavy-shouldered and bound by fate. Rook with the stone, indomitable look in his eye and the pioneer squint, hefting a bow and the fate of Thedas on his hip. Rook needed a break. 

He’d be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t vaguely disappointed.

“Some rest was in order, and to that end, I am relieved it served as a lullaby,” he offers, looking over his shoulder. He presses his palms together. “Whisked away by promises of the Fade... We are welcome to return by your leave.”

[nevarran-hahren]

"Tel'banal ara ma. Vir shiral ma lasa, bellanaris."

[brood-mother]

its the little things in (un)life

[theredconqueror]

19, 39, +1

1. How old is Rook? Short answer is that he's as old as Corypheus; they became corrupted circa -395 Ancient and it's now 9:52? So he's 1347 + whatever his age was. I don't think we ever get an age for Corypheus and the young end would be late 30s to a range of 40s. Basically, he's close to 1400 lol. 19. What is Rook’s love language? What love languages do they respond best to? I think within the context of Inquisition/Veilguard and how that's not really doing normal living, the manifestations would be acts of service, which is helping people with their problems ("sidequests") and quality time would be the truest shows of that. He's capable of the other things, but giving gifts and saying words of affirmation are things he would to do for people he's in a friendship with, too. For him, "doing things", particularly difficult things, are the truest show of caring. Actions speak louder than words, and all that. Also, spending time with someone is a show of that he values that person's company over his own solitude, which is a state he tends to find peace in (a lonely state, but still). It would also show in battle who is close with in his group by the fact that he would default to protecting them more so in battle over others. If an enemy hurt them, said foe will be killed very quickly, and perhaps painfully. He's a very evidence-based person and given his difficulty with trusting other people, acts of service would be something that he would respond well to in turn. All of the people who are putting their life on the line and looking to him as a leader (in Veilguard, or listening to his advice in Inquisition), means a lot. Quality time, again, is a show that someone else values spending time with him - time being a precious commodity for a mortal. Words of affirmation could be very, very effective, but there's sort of an initial barrier because he won't believe what someone says about him, particularly given the fact they don't know who he really is and what he's done. Physical touch is something that would likely have an initial discomfort to - he literally hates the skin he's in and touch has an association with violence for him in a lot of ways. So allowing someone to touch him would be unequivocal show that he feels comfortable with them, and light accidental touches before that would likely be the easiest way to fluster or set him off-balance before that. 39. What is their room at The Lighthouse like? Easy to be packed up. He has few personal items, fewer that he really cares about. I think he's always prepared to just "disappear into the night" if he needs to, linked to the fear that if anyone found out who he was he'd have to flee. He'll have a lot of books and magical items, half out of personal interest, half for practical reasons. He'd have a paranoia of anyone looking through his room/things, so there's nothing that would be super incriminating in terms of who he was personally, but it might be able to be inferred that he's into strong/dangerous magic (but what Tevinter mage isn't...). The decor theme is Tevinter, obviously. He's probably the one most in need of a personal gift to put in his room, to be honest. He also has a chess board! But he will crush anyone in chess, unfortunately. The emptiness of his room reflects a lot of the emptiness of his soul: nothing he cares about, nothing he holds onto, nothing left to lose.

+1 What does Rook smell like? At best, like magic and earth. There's nothing that seems to indicate that it's difficult for normal people to be in the presence of Grey Wardens, who are also tainted, because of how they smell. I think to Emmrich, specifically, because of where he lived for so long and his particular magic sensitivities, might be able to pick a thin thread of something familiar to him, but perhaps not know what it is exactly, which is: darkness & death.

Side AU? This doesn't really have any basis on lore, but I think it would be an interesting idea of that he smelled good to different people in different ways, in relation to the fact that he exists as a being of corruption. The base of corruption (blight) being that it wants, on a scientific level, to get close to other people. I think the flip side, is in a situation of danger or intimidation, that it might be able to change itself to something that will trigger fear in the other person (in an abstract, biological way).

[antiivarook]

@emmliches asked: ❛ a fine orlesian red, aged for a robust sixty-four years, ❜ emmrich says, a quality to him like tinsel suns. ❛  how is the wine, rook? ❜

"It tastes..." Kiran normally wouldn't have picked the wine. It was normally the cheaply produced and questionably made alcohol that she would find in the most obscure corners of her home. Things had changed since being here though. New experiences, new foods, new drinks... People normally have something really intellegent to say about wine. The aftertones, the smell... the initial taste. However, Kiran got to the point. "...I don't know...expensive? Like, I didn't know wine was even supposed to taste this... nice. " She tilted her glass, swirling the red around before looking over at the mage with a small smile. "You have a great taste in reds, Emmrich...I know who I'll be consulting for the beverages when we celebrate this whole thing being over..."

[svartr]

the  team's  dedicated  book  club  is  something  that  he's  wanted  to  be  apart  of,  but  knew  that  if  he  joined,  he'd  likely  only  hold  everyone  else  back,  offering  little  to  the  gatherings.  sometimes,  if  someone  was  lucky,  in  the  right  place  at  the  right  time,  they'd  find  rook  hidden  away  in  a  corner,  eyes  glued  to  whatever  novel  of  choice  that  part  of  the  team  were  reading.  having  similar  taste  to  a  couple  of  the  other  members  of  the  veilguard,  he  enjoyed  a  good  romance.  fairytales  were  one  of  the  very  few  things  that  kept  him  sane  during  the  years  previous.

of  course,  he  has  a  hard  time  saying  no  to  dramas,  too.  the  twists  often  caught  him  off  guard,  despite  believing  himself  to  be  pretty  good  at  reading  others.  that  is,  when  feelings,  emotions,  don't  involve  himself.  he's  got  an  awful  habit  of  assuming  that  all  around  him  merely  deals  with  him,  rather  than  ..  enjoys  him.  enjoys  what  he  can  offer.  whatever  that  is.  at  the  very  least,  emmrich  seems  to  genuinely  like  being  around  him.  enough  to  be  willing  to  take  frequent  trips  with  him  to  wherever  he  chooses.  surely,  he  does  not  have  to  go  to  such  lengths  to  get  along  with  him.

book  is  tucked  neatly  into  his  small  satchel,  something  he  carried  with  him  everywhere.  it  held  essentials,  mainly  drinking  water,  a  change  of  clothes,  food  rations,  medical  supplies,  a  worn  journal  for  his  thoughts.  there's  also  a  couple  of  smaller  items  picked  up  along  his  travels,  of  which  only  hold  sentimental  value.  most  were  given  to  him  by  others.  some  names  he  can  hardly  remember  now.  but  the  feelings  that  the  trinkets  evoke  within  him  upon  looking  at  them  are  enough.

"  is  it  by  choice  ?  "  curious,  tips  of  his  ears  twitch  slightly.  "  staying  in  one  place  for  so  long.  as  beautiful  as  the  necropolis  is,  i  cannot  imagine  staying  anywhere  forever.  not  by  choice.  "  even  a  place  as  captivating,  homely,  as  treviso  has  become  cannot  hold  his  attention  for  all  time.

it's  why  he  enjoys  contracts  that  take  him  afar.  although  contracts  in  the  south  are  rare,  he's  always  the  first  to  offer  himself  up  for  those.  not  that  he  has  a  final  say  in  his  destination.  he'll  go  where  viago  sends  him.  for  someone  who  gave  him  a  second  chance  at  life,  for  offering  him  a  place  to  utilize  his  skills  on  his  own  accord,  rather  than  through  the  manipulation  of  his  mind,  body.  he  cannot  complain.  won't.

a  little  note  is  left  behind  on  the  coffee  table,  a  brief  explanation  of  their  chosen  destination,  if  needed  by  the  team  for  whatever  reason.  and  then  he's  walking  alongside  the  necromancer  towards  the  eluvian  that'd  lead  them  to  the  crossroads.  a  brief  smile,  then,  as  he  glances  at  his  companion  for  the  evening.  "  ..  as  much  as  i  enjoy  spirits,  and  find  the  art  of  necromancy  rather  fascinating,  here's  to  hoping  that  nothing  departed  decides  to  drop  in  unannounced  on  us  tonight.  "

Once and again does Emmrich indulge in fiction. Emmrich, his pin cushion heart, dissolving in between the lines of shambling tragedies, his finger set between the cleave of his mouth. Now Rook gets to marinate in it, too: the corticotropin release that comes only with hardcover betrayals and knives to the back. Star-crossed lovers. 

It’s also why his mind had wandered briefly from teaching. Tales can do that to him, and Hezenkoss always spurned him for it. 

“How delightful.” Emmrich smiles now, pleasantly surprised. “I should like nothing more, Rook.”

So they prepare to hoist themselves up. Maybe Rook will bring the novel with him, crack it open and read it in a nook of the café like some Orlesian aristocrat with a smoking jacket. Emmrich makes sure his long legs never outpace.

“So rarely does a Watcher step outside the bounds of the Necropolis... How I had such dreams of the world and its splendors...” Here: that brief and faraway look in his eye, a touch of Orion and a wide stretch of eternity. He holds his hands together, thinking back to the café. “It brings to mind memories of tea with departed colleagues.”

[emmliches]

@rubistella

The air in his mouth still savors of lavender oil. He makes Astarion out by the faint wash of the candles, the translucent butane ghost-glow of him. 

“Astarion. I’ve read before of spirits of Hunger physically altering the bodies of their hosts, of an aversion to sunlight and an insatiable appetite for exsanguination,” Emmrich says, his brow pulling taut, “but to witness it oneself—”

Rook had installed black-out curtains to the piano room, a veritable Gothic tomb prone to apparitions of phantom dust and brooding. On a bad day, he can imagine someone slamming the keys in paroxysms of C minor outrage. Lucanis, too, prefers the dark. 

“Tell me,” he wonders, holding his staff, “have you and Hunger reached an accord?”

[emmliches]

the bell tolls. indie emmrich volkarin of dragon age: the veilguard. carrd. rules. about. verses.

[brood-mother]

[emmliches]

@motherswrath asked: ❛ you’re very kind. some day it’ll get you killed, ❜ ’tis a gentle tone from great matron’s maw; more an observation than judgement. 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (accepting)

“We are here so briefly, and—”

Emmrich turns aside with a pensive look.

He has heard something like it before. A synonym to one of many. Johanna had accused him through a middle-aged scowl and pewter eyes of mollycoddling, valiantly mawkish the way a poet is prone to self-medicating and failed marriages. Emmrich, terminally sweet. 

He watches as Manfred bumbles with violent curiosity. He scours for flora that match the drawings in a book. 

“Nothing saddens more than a living soul so worn and cold and bereft of love. To be resigned to a living death...” Emmrich tapers, thinking of the bitterness that often accompanies age. Regrets and envy and fear. Anger and pain and loneliness. He looks back, and she has molten, honey eyes like the photosphere of the sun. “I find that even for the most troubled of us, a tender touch is the candle that guides one back from the dark.”

[emmliches]

@postmortiem asked: ❛ close your eyes and hold out your hands. ❜ 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (accepting)

He splits open an eye, yanking back just before she can set it down. Something blankets over the craquelure of his face: exasperation. Loose leaf patience.

“Kirrily—! Must I have this discussion with you?” he stresses out, breathily and taut and terse. Emmrich lets go of something like a weary sigh, straightening his back. “While it’s true that you and I share a common... devotion for those dead and distant shores, I assure you that one hardly considers a rodent a gift.”

He can’t see her eyes through the charcoal lens, but he can imagine a sort of abstract sparkle in them. Like the cat that caught the canary. Bad news. Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning. Then, because he’s compelled and equally ruffled—

“Might I suggest flowers?”

[emmliches]

my canon end for emm//rich is mortality.

i do wish the game would've explore the choices more and the possible downsides to lichdom because, as it stands, they don't present any negatives.

1) though they touch upon this if you choose lichdom, they should've presented this issue beforehand: outliving you. worse: outliving everyone. emm//rich clearly has a deep capacity to love and to care. has he considered an eternity of losing everyone? will he force himself to never get close again in order to avoid mourning? 2) self-identity. you gain immorality, but you lose your body and your face. will you still see yourself as "you"? 3) will he still retain his humanity a hundred years down the line? two hundred? a thousand? how do you hold on to that humanity when you yourself gave it away, are largely secluded from the human population, and possibly bar yourself from further human relationships?

i dislike how the game presents it as "you can't have lichdom by reviving man//fred, because it implies you won't be able to handle the loss of others", and while that does make sense, it falls apart because choosing lichdom means being afraid of his own mortality. is being afraid of others dying unacceptable, but being afraid of dying yourself, and running away, okay?

i'm of the opinion that foregoing lichdom is a sign of growth for emm//rich. he never loses his fear, but he's grown enough to live with it, and choosing lichdom to me feels too easy in that you're encouraging him to run away. choosing lichdom can be interesting in that he obtained what he thought he always wanted only to learn that it isn't what he wants, especially when he sees everyone else aging or dying around him, but i like to think of that more as speculation and an interesting think piece than my canon ending.

[emmliches]

@rottine

Fire crackles the color of candied lyrium. Emmrich walks with a particular air and closes his eyes against an electromagnetic rendition of the “Ballad of the Empire”.

“A marvelous invention, isn’t it? I believe they call it - a ‘theremin’.” He smiles fondly to himself, slowly joining his hands. “So akin to the songs of the wisps…”

It smells of embalming fluids and thyme soaps and mineral bathwater. The body lays freshly washed over the mortuary slab, and in the dim green firelight, Emmrich can read her life by her hands. She was briefly a gardener, briefly a baker, briefly a seamstress, briefly a wife. Now, she will forever remain a delightful piece of Nevarran history, sleeping six feet deep in the prismatic fairytale of the Necropolis.

He looks at Margot. The theremin swoons through the air, settling in his ribs. “Shall we ready for her final wishes?”

[emmliches]

@fatewoven asked: ❛ how long have i been asleep? ❜ 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (accepting)

“Oh, only for a brief spell.”

There is no sense of time in the Lighthouse with its eternal Jupiter gas of sun. Lucanis has returned, waking seated in the kitchen where Emmrich has already prepared himself a prophylactic cup of loose Nevarran tea. The rest are still asleep. He knows drip coffee will miasma the air soon. 

“Lucanis, that’s wonderful.” He lowers his over-read copy of The Waking Scrolls. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear you’ve allowed yourself rest.”

He assumes it was real sleep, anyway. Spite finally assuaged and sated, no longer taking over to escape when Lucanis drops his guard to REM. Does he dream of kaleidoscopic Fade?

“Rejuvenated, I hope? I was just regaling Spite the experiences of my more— spiritual companions.”

[emmliches]

@theredconqueror asked: ❛ why did you bring me here? ❜ 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (accepting)

“To cleanse,” he answers. 

Emmrich starts his funeral march into the garden. It’s fields of calcium headstones and moon blossoms and sulfuric mirages of mist-emerald ghosts, a macabre dream for which Emmrich would surely curl into the moss and die in. Candles light their path the way the North Star guides a sailor. 

“When I’m taken by such worries, I like to come here and listen to the spirits,” Emmrich says, sailing a hand through the cool, still air. “Their tales of grandeur — and of their sorrows… It puts into perspective one’s place, a reminder of how, even in despair most dark,” he says, “we are never truly alone.”

He can wrap the Necropolis around himself like a blanket, inuring himself to the world by the ocean chamber of the crypt. The sounds of the katydids chirping. Fires crackling, the hum of spirits. 

He thinks of Valrys wrapped in it instead: asleep and weightless and soothed. 

“—A bit of silence can do wonders to clear the mind.”