#fractalmind

[fadedancer]

* FENRIS.

TOUGH SHELL bruised knuckles.    bloody noses.    eye rolling.    empty bottles.   messy hair.   sarcasm.   lip biting.     unwashed jeans.    coffee breath.    loud music.   broken neon signs.    chipped nail polish.  leather jackets.    always wearing headphones.    swearing.   sneaking out at 3am.  dark lipstick.    frown creases.    burning cigarettes.    plaid shirts.   under eye circles.   dark colors.

SOFT INSIDE honey tea.  flower crowns.   giggling.    blowing kisses.    dancing without worries.    white lace.   soft textures.   fluffy throw pillows.    using too many heart emojis.   empathy.   constant daydreaming.   handwritten letters.   fairy lights.    bullet journals.   designated driver.    warm hugs.   garden picnics.    quiet.    smile lines.   optimism.    flowy clothes.    pastel colours.

tagged by: @fractalmind 💕  tagging: @magisterivm, @cuervocanto, @dalishflame, @fatetcrn, @rivainicharm, @maestrodarte, @arallyingcry, @ofrevas, @magistersblade, @compassionsung, @asteeledheart, @aqun--athlok, @ourdawncomes, @sworntoprotect, @longmayshereignxcersei, @avrorean, @chaotiicgoods

[wemultitudinous]

@fractalmind​ // anders

Darktown. Never a place Varric visits just because he happens to feel like it; it has all the grime and grift of Lowtown with none of its attendant charm. Nowhere to find a decent drink down here, so he avoids it where he can, and when he can’t----well. He doesn’t bother glancing around as he works his way to the clinic, the air oppressively close around him. He knows what he’ll see, and has no time to spare for the suffering of everyday life down here.

The lanterns are flickering and lit, because the mage has a bleeding heart and too much time on his hands, but for once it’s not all that crowded. Varric sidesteps the last few straggling denizens of Darktown huddling together as they leave, and leans on the wall as he rounds the corner, catching sight of Anders and watching him for a long moment.

“You ever consider redecorating?” he asks after a few seconds of observation. “Couple rugs and some throw pillows would work wonders. Maybe a houseplant.”

[traiilblazer]

He waits until they are alone. Er, well. As alone as they can possibly be. Jim clears his throat, his arms crossed and his thick brows pulling pensively toward the middle of his face. He slips near in one, two slow strides. “ Can. Can uh, I, TALK TO YOU about something? ”

@fractalmind​

[bornpariah-a]

There are limits to his magic, loathe though he may be to admit as much ——— how large of a pyre he may burn, how many dead he could raise, how he can warp the Veil around his body just so, and most importantly : how many books he’s able to levitate at once. By and large this isn’t a problem, however the rather large amount of LITERARY WORKS which have recently arrived and, therefore, are begging to be transported as quickly as possible, lest the fragile pages be further subject to the travesty which is the natural forces. All that is to say : Dorian is rather in a hurry, and has rediscovered his limits of book carrying.

Barely, mind you, and only upon entering into the main hall of Skyhold with twenty or so books around him, more in his arms, some piled precariously and others simply levitating. Magic shudders around him and a few drop several feet as he bites back a sigh. It’s hardly worth it if he ruins any texts and thus : he finds himself turning and gently lowering several to the ground / before a movement catches his eye. ❝ Care to help a weary archivist uphold literary history? I’d ask Varric, of course, but he’s nowhere to be seen ——— that’s rather strange, ❞ he gestures broadly at the fireplace where the dwarf often is and the dozen or so books left floating shift towards the door to the rotunda / and he moves with them, half expecting the other mage not to aid him at all.

@fractalmind // what is it they say ? no compromises in war ? for anders ——  sc.

[kingsmanne]

@fractalmind​  liked for a starter

"Weird thing is, I never even considered astronaut training.” Feet on her desk and she almost lay in the chair, like a piece of fabric something had just thrown there, and her gaze lazily went to the woman opposite her. It was a clear allusion, something that they had in common; if not anything else. Anne did not know Nimue well, time to change that; that happened best over a shared interest that wasn’t about their job.

“Always thought that physically, I’d not be made for it anyway. Meaning I’d stay in a lab, hopefully in Cambridge because their equipment is fucking fantastic - ‘til Kingsman came knocking of course.” She shrugged; it was ironic, that all those requirements had been expected when agreeing to the most dangerous job interview in the world.

[unnwin-a]

STEELED EYES COULD CUT THROUGH ICE .   he levels his gaze ,  recovering from the momentary panic he shielded so well .   it had been a long time since he felt a situation lurch out of control   --------------   eliciting less pleasant ,  unwanted memories .   he wasn’t being heard ,  and with each passing second a strange sensation overcame him ,  as if his autonomy was ,  once again ,  no longer his to own .    ‘   I ain’t a robot  ’   he eventually snapped ,  and the ripples of chaos seemed to settle .

Nim meant well ,  Eggsy knew this .   but it would take time to grow accustomed to each other .   growing pains ,  as Harry might’ve put it ,  if Eggsy ever disclosed the problem   --------------   hell ,  if there was a problem to exist .   growing pains .   

Eggsy fought his natural instinct to flinch as her hand met his cheek ,  and let out a slow ,  shuddered exhale as Nim reevaluated the situation .   it would be okay ,  he reassured himself .    she will be okay .

@fractalmind     /    cont.

[ofrevas-a]

tom mison as anders - for @fractalmind​ (okay for rp blogs to reblog) // psd

[spidaeyaunt-movedd]

the may/tony energy of that b99 scene where gina says "aren't you forgetting something?" and when Jake goes to kiss her head, she says "no pay your bill who raised you"

[theharellan]

☱

Journal Meme | Not Accepting | @fractalmind

The entirety of the page is filled with a sketch of a small port town. Boats dock along the water’s edge, and upon the horizon more still come. A mabari waits upon the end of the pier, gazing at the approaching ships with eager intensity. Upon the opposite page, a few words are scrawled:

This land was once commanded by a spirit of Pride. The waking world has yet to fully recover from the damage she has done to it, but the softer memories of the Fade have begun to push past the sorrow. The Veil was stitched by unseen hands, but scars linger. Spirits with the strength to speak of her rule credit its end to a being named Justice, though when asked they could not recall where he was now. A pity, for I had begun to doubt such beings still existed in the world.

In another journal, one less worn and far newer than the last, there is a page filled with drawings of hands. Among them is a pair with clean fingernails and calluses along the palms where healing magic works from them. A faint black trail darkens the veins along the back-- whether it is a consequence of the medium used or a hint at something more, it is difficult to say.

A white cat nestles in a pauldron of black feathers, the top of his head pressed into the ground and his stomach in the air. One paw is curled delicately, the other stretched with claws bared, kneading thin air. With his eyes stretched against the floor, half-open slits gazing contentedly off the page, it almost looks as if he is smiling.

[landspeeding]

⚈

⚈ What sweet things tend to happen to you from time to time RP wise?

I think when you find the people who gets you on tumblr… that’s the most magical shit you can find in the rpc. You continually try to find someone who will get what your headcanons are, that will vibe with you ooc and share the same liminal space and wavelength. It’s so tough to go through dozens and dozens of blogs without that ‘I get you’ mindset, but when you find friends become literally the most important parts of your day? That’s what makes rp is for me.

Off the top of my head, this year I was so grateful to meet @fasciinating and reunite with @valorxus because they make every week worth waking up to. 

                        the hella sweet munday meme / accepting

[asteeledheart]

@fractalmind​

she knows she isn’t welcome here. the harsh gazes crawl under her skin and the too loud whispers reach her ears but she reminds herself that their distrust, their disdain, is not only to be expected, but is rightful. if they were placed were reversed, she would distrust, as well. 

the selection of dorian, solas, and bull to accompany her had been carefully calculated. vivienne had briefly been a choice, but sidri doubts her sharp tongue wouldn’t cut at least a few people before the end of this. there had been varric, perhaps, but there’s a history between him and the mage she’s here to see and in turn, she had suspected it not be the best choice, as well. for that, she’s flanked by her compatriots, hands carefully away from her weapons and the faintest of smiles adorning a weary face. “hello anders, i had hoped we might talk.” 

[fadedancer]

@fractalmind​

It was only another journey. Another place that was not the Estate, amongst strangers whose eyes lingered on him, curious and questioning, always questioning.

Following his Master as was expected, he was a silent shadow, padding exactly three paces behind and to the right, when space allowed. Near enough that he had a clear sight of all exits and windows, where he might intercept any weapons that sought the mage’s life.

Near enough that he was available for whatsoever was needed.

He was not needed now, however... his Master had waved him back so that he might converse with several other magisters. They stood in a tight circle a few feet away, whispering, whispering. Occasionally laughing, which caused the elf to tense each time a voice was raised, in pleasure or otherwise, his muscles rippling subtly beneath his armor. Laughter did not always mean safety.

Taking up a stance exactly as far away as he had been told to retreat, Fenris put his back to a wall, his eyes making the circuit of the room that his feet did not. He counted all the other guests he could see as his gaze tracked between his Master and back, again and again, taking in what details he could commit to memory, as on some occasions, his master did ask such things of him. And was displeased if he could not answer. 

So many strangers, and all of them strange to him. It was not safe.

[wemultitudinous]

@fractalmind​ asked:  Stay there. I’m coming to get you. / Eliot to Hardison again

100 WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU // ACCEPTING

There’s a thousand things to say that.

There’s the genuine ---- yes, please, dear sweet baby jesus, come get me ---- there’s the proud ---- man, I can handle myself! ---- and there’s the flippant ---- nah man, you good, I got this. But Hardison’s brain is a mess of panic and fear and not really capable of sorting through the mess of words rattling around in there.

They haven’t had a job go this wrong since Parker got herself trapped alone in a building at Archie’s say-so. Only this time it’s not Parker, who’s a master at going unnoticed and taking the way out that anybody else might think impossible. It’s Hardison, who has no particular desire to get into any vents, and absolutely will not be throwing himself off a building, no sir, and who can’t hack shit because they just cut all the power except the emergency lights.

He can hack any computer, he can hack a bank, hell, he can hack history. But he can’t hack a big man with a gun who probably has instructions to blow his head up on sight.

And so what he actually says is more along the lines of:

     “Well hurry your ass up! You think I’mma just stand here and say I’m waiting for someone, don’t mind me when a gang of armed men come ‘round that corner? How long you think I’d last, Eliot? Three seconds, maybe five at the outside? Even you can’t do shit ‘bout a hail of bullets. This ain’t the Matrix!”

His voice starts low but is rising with something akin to hysteria the longer he talks. Later, Eliot will call it babbling, but he’ll do it with a protective hand on Hardison’s shoulder that hides relief. Right now, he doesn’t say anything else in Hardison’s ear, and Hardison doesn’t stop talking, reeling out thoughts without stopping to vet them.

It’s another two minutes of it ---- “I don’t wanna die here, man, they just released a new WoW expansion and I got plans,” ---- before the door swings open.

Hardison yelps, spinning around to face the broad, tall man in a dark uniform who looks like he could crush Hardison’s skull in one hand without a lick of effort. Hardison stands there frozen, eyes wide, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ of panic. And then the man topples, slowly, like an ancient oak in storm. He doesn’t go down in stages ---- doesn’t hit his knees and slump forward ---- he simply tips from vertical to horizontal with a crunch that might be the sound of a nose breaking.

And behind him ---- oh, happy days ---- is Eliot, shaking out his fist.

“You gonna shut up?” he demands, but there’s relief in his voice. Hardison hollers, wordlessly, and flings himself towards Eliot, who catches him with one arm and lets him have the briefest moment of this before he pushes him away. “Let’s go.”

Hardison doesn’t need to be told twice. 

And that’s the thing, despite the fear. Wherever he is, and whatever the hell is going down, Eliot’s never failed to come for him yet.

[traiilblazer]

@fractalmind​ said, ❝ It’s our song ❞, right after the first telltale piano notes strike at chords low, deep down in his chest. Jim’s head had already turned to remind his pilot of the same, but AS PER USUAL, Hikaru Sulu beat him to it. ♫...She packed her bags last night pre-flight...zero hour, nine am...♫ The severity in the Captain’s face, placed there by the growing precariousness of their situation, is at once divided and conquered by a smile. Looking at the man for whom he had well more than two lifetimes worth of admiration, he didn’t need Spock to tell him their chances. With Sulu behind the wheel, odds were heavily and almost absurdly weighted in their favor. ♫...and I’m gonna be hi   g   h... as a kite by then...♫

❝ Damn good song, Mr. Sulu. ❞ Jim agrees with a nod and spins to return himself to his chair. ❝ Let’s remember to listen to it, after you get us the hell out of here. ❞ He only entertains the thought once it might be the last time. And he only does it, for every time it made his eyes well, and especially for the first time listening to it on his father’s vinyl. For every bar they drunkenly shout-sang it to, and for every time their combined vote for ROCKET MAN BY ELTON JOHN voted it in as the song of the week, and the whole Bridge crew, maybe even the entire ship groaned in unison, yes, again.

♫...and I think it’s gonna be a long long time...♫

[brutlistarchive]

@fractalmind​ said :     “     this is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation .     “ / tony stinky

     "     𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐝 .     "     it was that bad . and he was about to make sure tony never heard the end of it , until it was no longer a situation they were in .     “     i like being plastered to a wall by a weird substance that came from lord knows i don’t want to know , on a planet i ain’t never heard before in nothing but my briefs .     “

     a wiggle of his toes still somehow left untouched by the tacky gel helps to give some emphasis to what he less than inconspicuously hints at . heugh’s certain tony will find some appreciation for the effort . it wasn’t about whether or not they got out . it was that they were in this , yes , unsatisfactory situation , altogether . he could be at home , on his couch , watching the wiggles     ---     covered in grape jelly smears and toddler’s drool . that by far sounded more appealing than what he was glued with , and where .     “     look on the bright side : it’s gonna be hilarious when the next un - fucking - fortunates to get stuck here get the living hell scared out of them when they see my disgusting dead body flipping off yours .     “ 

[abysslain]

My goal was bigger than revenge

sarah j. mass. accepting. @fractalmind

        “------I know.”

       It’s said so softly, almost distantly. Eyes look anywhere but the other, focused far ahead of where they sit. In the distance, he thinks he can see dark, moving figures beneath the glow of the moons. Perhaps it’s just his eyes playing tricks on him. Perhaps he’s just being paranoid. Gaze flickers down to his lap, his hands curling, the pointed tips of his gauntlets sharp through the material of his gloves; clenched any tighter, and they might pierce through and break the skin.

       Bigger than revenge. It was never about just revenge, no matter what line that spirit may have crossed. It was about revolution. It was about freedom. Hope.

       The anger has... mostly subsided now, even if the hurt still lingers, because he understands. And if he knew, if he knew--- well, who is to say he wouldn’t have helped willingly? Maybe Anders knew that, maybe he was trying to keep him as safe as he could. Away from whatever damage caused by his actions.

       ( Even though he himself had caused more damage to the city than he'll ever forgive himself for; a corrupt city that desperately needed change, change he thought he could bring, but even he couldn’t save it. )

       “You didn’t have to do it alone.” Finally he brings himself to look at Anders. It’s easier now. “I would have gladly remained at your side, you know. If you had told me more.”