#gremlin hours with sola

[cheerysmores]

My wife once told me she would never play Baldur's Gate 3 because 'it's that slut game.' One year later she finally caved and did her very first playthrough.

May I present: Mrs. Cheery's chaotic gremlin adventure to Baldur's Gate.

Act 1

Our hero is the drow fighter, Lady Coolio. To this day we do not know whether Lady is her name or her title. She has a big sword, big tits and one goal: get to The Baldur's Gate with no distractions.

Escaped the 'Meat Bus' (Nautaloid). "Right how close am I to Baldur's gate? Like three hours?"

Sold her camp clothes by accident and was very sad that all she had to run around in was a grey hobo sack. (No mods. Sorry wife)

Asked if Withers was Solas's Dad.

Lady Coolio calls Astarion rat boy. In Wifey's words “he told me ‘when I was a little lad Cazador made me eat rats.’”

To be fair she isn't great with names so Halsin = Hoisin Sauce, Lae'zel = onion lady, Volo = Volvo, Cazador = Calzone (sometimes)

In camp: Gale "I'd like to show you something rather magical". Lady Coolio: "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR MAGIC PENIS"

“There are so many dead bodies everywhere this entire place has got to stink” (just act 1 generally)

Act 2

Ran into the shadow cursed lands very under levelled and Last Light inn instantly got sacked. Bad news as she was romancing Karlach and now can’t get her second upgrade. Lady Coolio firmly blames Isobel for "triggering like three opportunity attacks when she could have... not done that."

Died to the shadow curse a LOT. Her: “Why is everyone dying????” Me: “Remember the moon lantern?” Her: “The what?” Me: “… that thing with the swearing pixie in it” Her: “ I still have to use that????” Me: “ yes, because Isobel is dead” Her: "WHY IS SHE STILL CAUSING PROBLEMS."

Hates the Gauntlet of Shar. Asked Shadowheart, “Is Shar the only goddess with an Olympic qualifier to join her religion?”

And now a series of comments on the Dead 3's chosen: “so the bad guys are evil undead Santa, Lady Gaga and the ugliest man I’ve ever seen?”)” “Is Gale… horny for that crown??” “Maybe Myrkul would be more threatening if he wasn’t standing in an giant toilet and not moving”

On discovering the Emperor) “wait my fairy god mother is a SQUID??? oh :( ”

She did however become half illithid but hated that she ended up with varicose veins on her boobs.

Gale and Astarion then graduated to “those weak pudding men” because they kept getting stuck halfway across the map by missing jumps. Act 3

Said “Brexit means Brexit” every time she met someone who was complaining about the refugees.

Went to see Raphael at Sharess's Caress. Didn’t sign his contract “ I trust neither Lord Farquad nor squid man but I’m not selling my soul to someone who has such bad vibes.”

At Gortash's coronation. "I thought he was popular? Like seven people turned up to watch it. Is it because he's really ugly and smells like Lynx (Axe) body spray?"

She wanted to eat Orin's outfit because it looks like delicious bacon.

Walking around the city: "so where do I go??" "Anywhere you like." "I hate this."

She would not stop stealing things. I think she murdered the entire battalion of flaming fist in the lower city because "a lady's gotta eat." She also killed everyone in sorcerer’s sundries including Rolan.

Had the prototypical stress aneurysm while doing the iron throne but somehow managed to get ALL the hostages out.

Lae’zel was kidnapped by Orin for 9 in game days . When I asked about this she said “FINDING CLOWN MEAT IS MORE IMPORTANT.”

“Why does every door here lead to the sewer????? And why are there so many live mines in the sewer??”

(in the basement of the elfsong) “soo because the Emperor has a shitty basement I’m supposed to be best friend with him now? This soup recipe does not make me trust you squid man”

Halsin “nature used all its powers when crafting you” Wife “well it also crafted bacon lady (Orin) so swings and roundabouts”

Astarion stayed a spawn and she convinced Gale not to use the crown. “No one is becoming ultimate bitch on my watch”

Despite her distrust of the Emperor she still allied with him in the final fight. Because, and I quote, "Lady Coolio's goal is to stop the Absolute. The Emperor has the same goal. I don't know when I became everyone's therapist and in charge of them making better choices but I'm putting my foot down at replacing dehydrated onion queen with baldy prince king over here. The Gith's religion is not my problem."

In her canon Lady Coolio and the Emperor high fived when they won.

85 hours later and Lady Coolio is the hero of Baldur's Gate. Please enjoy this picture of our heroine.

[thedastravelerer]

I just finished the Dragon Age Veilguard and I need to scream my thoughts into the internet void.

My Rook, Lucrezia, was bought along with other kids by the house de Riva when she was 3 years old. She doesn't remember anything before that. When her magic manifested at the age of 8, she begged Viago not to send her to the Circle. Viago saw great potential in the little elven chaos gremlin, so he decided to hire private tutors for her. From the age of 14, she became Viagos apprentice, accompanying him everywhere. Her sunny, bubbly personality was a great distraction in social settings. She was the Robin and Viago was the Batman, basically.

Inquisitor romanced Solas.

So that is the viewpoint, from which I experienced the game.

The good:

The music is AMAZING

The environments are gorgeous

Spellblade is sooo much fun. The perfect mix of rogue and mage.

Treviso is so beautiful. I am never saving Minrathous. That sh*thole can get swallowed by the ocean.

The final missions were great. The tension, the loss, the heartbreak, the betrayal—10/10. No notes.

Baby griffons

The conversations/dynamic between Lucanis/Spite and Taash crack me up

The dynamic between Viago and Lucrezia was everything I could have hoped for. I still laugh when I remember the letter from Viago starting with "IDIOT".

Viago and Teia—I would die for them. Every time they flirt, I picture Lucrezia sticking fingers into her ears and going LALALALA. I don't want those pictures in my head.

Harding wins the competition for the prettiest room in the Lighthouse.

I love the little offhand comments and banter between all of the Crows. It was fun to hear Lucanis or Lucrezia randomly mention Viago or Teia. It really painted a picture of them knowing each other for a long time and being able to poke fun at each other.

I loved Lucanis as a character. Also, the 3-way relationship between Rook-Spite-Lucanis is perfect. I loved that when Lucanis learns about Caterina being alive, he shuts down and Spite is like: "What?! Why are you putting more locks into our prison? I AM GETTING ROOK! :D

The "Solas therapy" ending was heartwarming (and also a bit funny)

I loved Solas as a character. I see, why he is the god of trickery and lies. And how his wisdom turned into pride. I just wish I could slap that stubborn liar. Just once.

You know it is real love when you spent the last few hours chomping on an archedemon and your Vhenan still kisses you.

I liked the relationship progression between Davrin and Lucanis. They went from open hostility to mutual respect to drinking buddies.

Lucanis questioning Bellara and Neve about their business decisions was hilarious. Crows are first and foremost business people.

Isseyas storyline. I just wish they delved deeper into her story instead of getting an infodump. I enjoyed seeing how the blight twisted her grief and regrets. How she remembered only her love for the griffons she saved. And the blight corrupted that love, forcing her into horrible mistakes.

The bad:

The story is so shallow in comparison to previous games. All of the nuance is gone. There is no Loghain, no Meredith and Orsino, no Anders. Everyone is either the good guy or the bad guy. Maybe except for the Butcher and Isseya.

A lot of the darker, complicated, interesting themes are ignored. After the Antaam Qunari (Sten in DAO), the Ben-Hassrath Qunari (Bull in DAI) we finally meet a scholar of Qun and we get NOTHING interesting from her. We can't have a deeper conversation about the Qun. We can't even talk about her hypocrisy of running away from the very rules she forces on Taash. The Antaam are the a$$holes and everyone else following the Qun is good. Until they disagree with their assigned role in life and get their mind broken until they fit the mold again. But we don't get to learn that.

Who TF is Anaris? Why is he the Forgotten One? What does it even mean? What beef did he have with the Evanuris? We don't get to learn that. We get MWHAHAHA I AM SOOO EVIL. Boring and disappointing. It would have been much more interesting if he convinced Cyrian his sister was a pawn for the Dread Wolf. There could have been a conflict between elves choosing Anaris, who promised them power after their gods turned out to be a$$holes, and elves choosing a new, free path.

Are we not going to address the EXECUTIONER in the room? Who is he? Where did he come from? Why is he totally cool working a desk job in the Necropolis?

We finally see Kal-Sharok and we learn almost nothing about the dwarves living there. How did they survive? How do they govern themselves? What is the culture like?

I don't understand the Titan powers Harding has. Like, I get the concept, but the details are confusing.

I am sick of the words "ritual" and "artifact"

The quests "press button in three places" or "destroy/place crystals so they link/unlink" were a bit repetitive.

Characters sometimes have lapses in memory. Ferelden has fallen to the blight, but Emmerich and Harding are going camping there... Mmmmkay. Rook, baby, you have used the teleport vortex like three times before. We have 2 in the Lighthouse.

I love Lucanis, but his romance is very undercooked. I get, that he pushes a lot of emotions down, and flirting is just another weapon the Crows use to get to their targets. But we see no inner turmoil in banter, no notes wondering about Rook. He touches Rook exactly once - in the romance scene at the very end. They never even address the almost kiss.

The brutality of the life of Crow recruits is smoothed over to be nice and family-like. We are talking about an organization that buys enslaved children and forces them into hunger games to shape them into elite assassins.

The widespread Tevinter slavery is mentioned minimally. The only mention might be the codex of Dorians speech in the Magisterium. Their whole social system is built on slavery and caste system. We don't get to talk to Neve about any of it.

Most of the helmets are hideous.

The "stealing cultural stuff is wrong and we, the pirates and treasure hunters, are not doing it. We are the good guys!" talk you have with Taash right when you meet her was so jarring. Like, it makes sense, because Isabella is in charge. It would have been funnier and less preachy if they went with "We don't steal cultural stuff, because Isabella stole something from the Qunari once and it was a sh*tshow".

No dirt, no persistent gore

You don't get to have deep conversations with your followers. Instead, you get to read their diaries and letters in the codex. I felt like a creep snooping through their notes and letters to each other. Same feeling with the Lighthouse banter.

I miss the more abrasive followers. Everyone is high on friendship. Why is no one protesting against the demon-possessed assassin cooking all of our meals? Why isn't Bellara more wary about the Tevinter mage? Emmerich gets a lot of sh*t for the creepiness, but nobody questions the morality of using body parts as Legos.

I wish we could choose a class for the Inquisitor. She looked so ridiculous and out of place in the last fight. She is one of the most fearsome fighters in Thedas and she wears the blandest outfit possible. She isn't even armed.

We find out the Andrastian faith is a fairytale and no one except Harding comments on it? All of the human followers grew up in Andrastian cultures. Religion forms the structure of society, customs, inner values, viewpoints on the world, and what is considered "normal" on a subconscious level. In DAI you have a conversation with Josephine about how the Andrastian faith provides common ground for negotiations across cultures. Cassandra walks through an elven temple that is older than her religion and still wonders who could believe this nonsense. Why aren't you more upset, people?!

I am going to pretend the post-credit scene didn't happen. You will not soil the beautiful tragedies of the very human mistakes and choices the imperfect characters like Loghain made. I will not accept some demon whispering over the wonderful multi-faceted people and their rises and falls. F*ck you.

The bug, where the game loads the preset character instead of your custom Rook is annoying and didn't get fixed by the patch.

I hate the UI with a passion

No grey streaks in Inquisitors hair is a crime.

I hate the underwater view in Rooks room. I have an irrational fear of deep waters and sea life. The Ossuary is a prison of my nightmares.

I hate the redesign of the demons. They look like dementors with their robes open.

It is not clear how long was Rook trapped in the prison of regrets.

Anyway... rant over. I enjoyed the game like I enjoy the Marvel movies. With half of my brain turned off.

[jazzmckay]

Happy inaugural Thedas Weekend! Could I suggest Katari Adaar and their most (emotionally) painful experience? I love every single Adaar Inquisitor.

this one got away from me, and in a direction i did not expect! thanks for the opportunity to develop my gremlin :D she's a rare oc of mine who doesn't have anything tragic in her backstory, so canon events are what rattle her the most, especially since she has inherited a fear of magic and demons from her parents. it was also wild to write solas here, given new context from davg.

katari adaar & solas 2.6k violence, minor character death, anti-mage sentiment for @thedasweekend

On a night like this, the energy is running high: chatter and laughter, the fire blazing well into the darkest hours, and flowing ale. With a job complete and their pockets lined, there’s time to kick back and enjoy their good fortune. Shokrakar tops up Katari’s drink, knocking their mugs together in a wordless toast before they both take hearty mouthfuls. The Ashaads and Sataa are embroiled in a game of cards. Kaariss, the lightweight, is lying on his back in the grass, humming a lazy tune to himself. Sata’Kas and Meraad are throwing daggers at a knot in a tree, loudly competitive about it.

Katari could out-throw them both. She takes another long drink, gulping down the ale, then sets her mug aside, pushing herself up to her feet. After a moment of head-spinning, she gains her bearings and heads over.

Sata’Kas elbows her in the side. “You sure you can see straight enough to hit that mark?”

Snorting, Katari gives them a shove in return. “The drink just makes it more fair for you two.”

“Prove it,” Meraad replies.

Katari holds a hand out for one of the throwing knives, the blade already dulled from their antics. Better than using her own daggers, which she keeps in perfect condition.

Meraad obligingly offers one, reaching out to set it in Katari’s palm.

On contact, he flinches and hisses. A green flash cuts through the night darkness as the dagger falls between their fingers, dropping to the ground. An acidic sting lances up Katari’s arm from the center of her palm outwards, the green light bursting brighter, stronger, until blinding, and Meraad screams, the light playing over his agonized features, sickly green against dark shadows.

“What did you do to him?” Sata’Kas yells. “Katari, what did you do?”

Katari can barely hear them over the rush of blood in her ears. Frantically, she circles her other hand around her wrist, squeezing tight. She needs it to stop. Stop, stop, stop—

But it doesn’t.

Meraad shrivels. There’s more yelling behind them, panicked and angry. Like invisible fire is consuming him, Meraad’s form goes gaunt and hollowed, skin flayed nearly to the bone. All Katari can do is watch in horror as her own touch destroys him.

“Monster!” Sata’Kas screeches.

With a jolt and a gasp, Katari’s eyes flare open. The green glow is snuffed out, only uninterrupted darkness remaining.

In the silence of her cabin, her breath is loud and ragged. She stares at what little she can make out of the ceiling, vaguely finding the seams between the wooden boards. The air is cold here—further south than the Valo-Kas usually go—yet Katari’s skin is ablaze, slick with sweat.

At her side, her hand throbs. With the mark.

Katari pulls her arm out from under the furs and inspects it, finding it mostly inert. Just that fissure of green, currently resembling an old scar instead of the pulsing flash it becomes when—when there’s—when she has to—

Kicking the furs off, Katari swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands. Her eyes are already adjusting to the dark. She grasps at the hilt of her dagger, from where her holsters are lying next to her bedside, and wretches the blade free. Stomping across the room, she slams her hand down onto the nearby table, palm up, and takes aim with her dagger.

A single snatch of breath, and then she swings down.

The dagger blade slams into the table, just to the right of her wrist.

Katari lets out a growl of frustration. She has better aim than this.

Cut it off, her mind orders. Cut it out, cut it off, get it out, need it gone—

She feels sick. Her stomach roils and a shiver runs down her back. This mark, it’s wrong. She doesn’t remember how it happened, how she got it, but it must have been wrong. It’s magic, that much she knows, so it’s dangerous. Wild, uncontrollable, destructive. Connected to demons.

The image of Meraad convulsing in agony flashes across her mind’s eye. Katari snarls, willing the memory away. Not real.

Might as well be. Who knows what the mark will do. No one else seems to understand the risk of it. Some even see it as a blessing. Their only hope. They must be blind, must be fools. Blind fools who think she’s Chosen when the truth is she’s cursed.

The cold night air makes itself known as Katari trembles, the flush heat of her nightmare fading. She’s never had a dream so vivid—maybe that’s a symptom of the mark, too.

She can’t go back to bed. Won’t be able to sleep. Not while she knows there’s something dangerous about, and it’s in her own flesh.

Katari goes to tug on her breeches, then stuffs her feet into her boots. As if gearing up for a fight, she pulls on her armour, tightening the belts into place with decisive and practiced motions. The dagger still sticking out of the table gets returned to the holster over her shoulder.

With that, she pushes out of the cabin into the snow-covered village of Haven.

At this hour, there are only a few guard posts around, mostly at the gates between the village and the lakeside soldiers’ tents lined out in the snow. By faint torchlight and moonlight, Katari moves down the path from her cabin, rustling the snow as she goes. At least there’s no one around to gawk at her, acting like the wound on her hand makes her something she’s not.

She thinks of the start of her nightmare, wishing it were real. If all had gone the way it was supposed to, they would have done their job keeping a fight from breaking out, then they would have gotten paid by the Divine herself, likely making enough that they could have their pick of any drinks they want for their down time.

Instead, Katari ended up in the fucking Fade. The place of nightmares itself.

She takes the steps into the village proper, roaming in the lanes between tents and cabins. Even the tavern is quiet, all dark and shut down. It would have made for a good distraction. If not the crowd, the noise, the bustle—then talking to one of the newest recruits from Val Royeaux would have done it. Sera. Hot, funny, headstrong. She made the trip to the heart of Orlesian fussiness actually worth it.

But the tavern is empty. Katari has no destination in mind. She just needs to move.

Unconsciously, her hand winds around her other wrist, just like it did in her dream. Her glove covers the mark now, but she can still feel it, like something alive cut into her. A wriggling parasite. Could be eating at her, could consume her a bit at a time until her whole arm is rotted and sick, like the limb of a demon itself.

The only person who knows a damn thing about it is the elven apostate. He kept it from killing her. Katari wonders if it’s only a matter of time before it flares up again, and she’ll be dependent on his magic again.

Grimacing, Katari comes to a stop, standing in the middle of the village lane. Just around the bend is where Solas stays.

A mage, but he’s Katari’s best chance.

Mind made, Katari continues through the village, following the lines of trampled snow where others have walked through, not yet covered in fresh snow. She comes to the ring of cabins towards the edge of the village, and walks up to the one where Solas retires for the night.

Raising her fist, she slams it against the door a couple times. She waits a beat, hears nothing, and knocks again, then shoves at the door until it unsticks from the doorframe, pushing inwards.

From inside, she hears a grumble, followed by a flicker of magic that ignites a candle at the bedside. Solas comes into view, sitting up in bed.

“A bronto has better manners,” he grouses under his breath. Not quietly enough for Katari to miss it, if he even cared to hide it at all. “What could you possibly need so urgently at this hour, Herald?”

Katari grunts, rankled by the title. She kicks the door back closed behind her and moves deeper into the room. “It’s the mark.”

That has Solas perking to attention. In the candlelight, Katari can see him immediately looking down at her hand, though there’s nothing to see with her glove still on. He stands and retrieves his tunic, pulling it on and bringing his jawbone necklace forward to rest upon it.

“Is it unstable?” he asks as he reaches for his breeches next.

“Isn’t it always?” Katari snaps, her lip curling.

“No,” Solas answers. “It was quite fine after I contained its energy.”

Katari huffs as she throws herself down into a chair near the hearth. “It’s not contained. It can open and close the Veil. That’s not normal.”

Solas steps towards her, holding out a hand in a silent request.

After pulling her glove off, Katari offers her marked hand in return.

She expects the magic that follows, but still tenses up, still grits her teeth as Solas waves his hand over hers, examining. His own magic is a little green, a little blue. It looks calmer than the mark or the Breach, but Katari won’t forget what it’s capable of.

When Solas is finished, the light goes out and he drops her hand with gentleness.

Katari avoids looking at either him or the mark while she pulls her glove back on.

“There is nothing amiss,” Solas tells her. “What gave you the impression there was?”

Still avoiding his eye, Katari curls her hand into a fist, resting it on her thigh. It’s not like hiding it from sight will keep the magic at bay, but it feels good to squeeze it out of sight, imagining it getting crushed into nothing.

Sata’Kas’s voice echoes in her head. Monster.

“I’m not a mage,” Katari says. “I’m not… this can’t be me.”

Her parents told her stories about the Saarebas. There were many on Seheron, their destruction being put to an honourable cause by having it directed at Tevinter. Both her fathers have fought battles with multiple Saarebas on the field, having to trust that the Arvaraads would keep the leashes taut. It was a horror on both sides, Aquntama told Katari. It was chaos. They could not stay, and they especially would not raise Katari on that forsaken island.

They wouldn’t want this for Katari.

“It must be,” Solas says, cutting through Katari’s thoughts. “The Breach must be sealed, and you hold the key.”

“I don’t want it,” Katari snaps. “Can’t you just… I don’t know, pull it out? If you can contain it, can’t you get rid of it?”

Solas shakes his head, his brow furrowed. His gaze drops to Katari’s fist, looking at it with what Katari hopes is consideration, but the moment passes, and Katari’s gut clenches.

“It is not so simple. If such a thing can be done, it would take great power. More power than I have.”

He sounds genuinely regretful, oddly sad. As much as the answer makes Katari want to punch his table in half, part of her feels soothed by his tone; if he could take it, he would, she thinks. He wouldn’t insist she’s the Herald, wouldn’t insist she’s Chosen. He would free her from this.

“What if it spreads?” Katari blurts out. “What if it grows beyond my hand, what if I can’t control it? What if I… become wrong? I don’t want this, I don’t want any of it, I’m not…”

Could the mark turn her into a demon? Or would it just destroy her until she’s nothing but ash, like Meraad? Maybe it will pull her into the Fade, leaving her trapped there in a mirage of horrors.

All she wants to do is go back to her company. She wants to go back to working mercenary jobs, travelling the Marches and making coin for bloodying her blades. It was a straight-forward life, and she was good at it. She liked it. Would have done it until she got too old for it. But now she’s been called the Herald of Andraste, put in charge of something she’d never choose for herself. The mark on her hand is all people care about. Everyone just wants something from her now, while Katari wants nothing more than to turn her back on it all.

“Katari.”

Katari lifts her head to look at Solas, surprised. At most, the members of the Inquisition call her Adaar. More than that, though, she gets ‘Herald’ and ‘Your Worship’ and similar nonsense.

Solas continues. “The mantle of leadership is a heavy one. It is a burden that may crush you, if you let it. Regardless, it will change you, as it already has. It is too late to reverse the path; you need to face what comes next.”

Shaking her head, Katari opens her mouth to protest, but Solas isn’t finished.

“Rest assured, I will keep the mark stable for you. I don’t suspect it will be an issue, but if it is, I will be here.”

Having her life in the hands of an apostate isn’t Katari’s idea of reassuring, but something holds her back from saying so. He really is her only option, and he doesn’t even seem to begrudge the role.

She sighs, slumping into the chair’s backrest. As she goes lax, her fingers uncurl, no longer clenched tight upon her thigh. She’s too worn out to care.

More tiredly than angrily, she says, “Fuck. This vashedan reeks.”

Solas’ lips pull into a grin, surprising her.

“You have the power to make it less so,” he says.

Katari supposes he’s right. Doesn’t make her any less irritated by her life being usurped, even rewritten, but he’s still right. “Fine. Close the sky’s asshole, then get back to how it was. Should be easy enough,” she says dryly.

“Such matters are never simple,” Solas says, “but you are quite formidable yourself.”

Katari snorts. “Bronto with worse manners, right?”

“Precisely,” Solas says, grinning again.

The talk has helped, Katari realizes, even if she didn’t get what she really wanted. The mark is still embedded in her palm, but Solas says it’s stable, and the memory of her nightmare has faded into the background. Her thoughts aren’t so frantic.

She stands up, knocking her elbow against Solas’ as she passes him. “Go get back to your Fade trip, then,” she says. While the Fade makes Katari’s skin crawl and she’d prefer her sleep to be undisturbed, Solas likes it for some reason. Weirdo. Weirdo who knows his shit, though.

The advisors want Katari to establish the Inquisition’s presence at the Storm Coast. She thinks she’ll take Solas along when she goes.

“And a restful night for you as well, however that might look,” Solas replies as he returns to his bedside.

Dreamless, hopefully.

Katari shoulders through Solas’ door into the chilly outdoors, pulling it closed behind her. She takes in a deep breath, the frigid air pleasantly sharp in her lungs. Above, the Breach swirls ominously, casting its green glow over the valley. That vortex is from the same twisted magic that infects Katari’s palm; it’s the force that’s spewing untold numbers of demons into the unsuspecting world.

If Katari is stuck with the mark on her hand, she’ll make the Breach choke on it.

[vounoura]

general da4 thoughts; major general spoilers (I mean it)

destroying the entire south off-screen is a bit of a choice; I can't say I necessarily disagree with it bc the evil gremlin in my brain loves that shit, I actually loved how bleak a lot of the stakes were esp in act 2/3, how every victory came at extreme cost, that they were brave enough to force at best one mandatory main character death and at worst a TPK, and that they weren't afraid to take a baseball bat to the places we loved. On the other hand, I wish we'd seen some of it. Rook having to keep northern Thedas from imploding in on itself while also helping the Inquisitor down south in engagements against the 2x Blight could've been really cool, esp. bc the Inquisitor has a weirdly absent role for how much Solas is involved.

If you are going to do it off-screen tho; as someone who defended the decision pre-release, this is where you really feel the lack of reactivity imo. I do think more choices should've been included, particularly with the fight in the south. If the states you left places in from DAO/2/I affected how they fared during DAV (ie. maybe Gaspard is the worse political choice in DAI, but his aggressive military response in DAV is what keeps Orlais alive when the 2x Blight hits; maybe banishing the Wardens from Orlais significantly affects if they can defend themselves when the Blight knocks on their door, and by the time you can repeal that decision it's already too late. maybe saving both Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep gives at least a part of Ferelden a better chance to survive, whether or not the Inquisition is still around and the Inquisitor has an army to use should be massive, etc) I think maybe the decision to have the south under a losing siege off-screen would've gone over / felt better if at least you could've affected how it went down a bit. I know they want to make the threat and power of Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan really apparent, but still. I guess that's h/c territory for me now

That being said like I said I actually really enjoyed the really bleak stakes, and I have a lot of whinges and quibbles but still mostly enjoyed the experience. granted I am extremely easy to please re: DA and I fully admit that, but my heart almost did not recover from the endgame I did not know if Neve survived helping the VJs for like a full hour

[ars-amatoria]

A while back I saw a "what Veilguard faction would your Inquisitor be?" poll and since then I've been thinking about how it applies for all my Inquisitors.

Elanna Lavellan (no screenshots)

Rogue (archer, assassin)

My very first Inquisitor, so I have much less sense of her specific personality than others. The most notable thing is that I somehow started romancing Blackwall without intending to, and then he had a million unrelated cut scenes before I was allowed to break up with him. Elanna let that man rot in Orlesian prison after his Big Reveal.

She romanced Cullen and is presumably spending a fair amount of her time at the Fereldan Home For Old Dogs and Templars.

But Heir trained her in assassination so she has that connection with the Crows

Meriam Lavellan

Mage (Knight Enchanter)

My One True Inquisitor, the one I 100%ed the game with (technically 99.9% because she did NOT collect the mosaic piece that required desecrating the Dalish cemetery). I played through Trespasser maybe 3 or 4 times with her over a year as I got incrementally closer to completion.

She romanced Solas and she was so sad and tired about it for my ~100 hours of post-breakup play. She tried to hit every wolf statue in the Exalted Plains with her spirit blade, because she didn't *technically* know his big secret? But the vibe was there.

She was a massive nerd about Elven history, so I think she would have been in regular touch with the Veil Jumpers, but she probably also spent a fair amount of time with the Shadow Dragons because Dorian was her BFF.

In my first Veilguard playthrough I got her back together with her toxic ex. I will probably remake her at some point now that I'm better at using the Veilguard character creator. Who knows, maybe I'll make a version of her who still has her Sylaise vallaslin from back before Solas took that and also her arm.

Kaaras Adaar

Mage (rift)

The world's fanciest Tal-Vashoth. He romanced Dorian and I like to think the two of them have been taking time out of their busy schedules to level up the Minrathous queer scene.

He punched Solas and got the rival-who-figured-out-Solas's-deal dialogue in Trespasser so it was honestly pretty funny to see him pretend they were ever friends.

It feels possible that the other Adaars have teamed up with the Lords of Fortune but given his relationship with Dorian, I think he's mostly connected with the Shadow Dragons.

Theodosia Trevelyan

Mage (knight enchanter)

She is prickly and unlikable. She's also the only devout Andrastian I've created for any Dragon Age, and my only True Believer Inquisitor.

She romanced Blackwall, and gave him divine forgiveness after his secret got out. (I honestly put down this save after I got through the Winter Palace and the Blackwall personal quest, but I like to rotate her in my head)

Her secret agenda in my current Veilguard save is to get Solas to admit the Maker is real. I don't know if she's especially affiliated with any of the Veilguard factions but I feel like she and the First Warden would get along well.

Isaac (Tettares) Lavellan

Mage (necromancer)

I made Isaac for my pre-Veilguard replay in October and became low-key obsessed with this gremlin. He was trans and romancing Dorian and I got really up in my head about how bad things went for Krem in Tevinter and what that meant for the Isaac/Dorian future? And then Veilguard came out and I learned that Dorian's Tevinter social group is mostly trans people and Minrathous has become the trans headquarters for all of Thedas and it honestly felt like I was being called out for worrying so much

On the one hand, I don't want to put him in Veilguard, because my headcanon is that he tried to end the Inquisition as soon as Corypheus was dealt with, and then ran away and is undercover as a low level Shadow Dragon. OTOH I do want to see if I can recreate his cartoon face proportions in Veilguard.

[avsmfs]

yo i have the b/d b/tch tag blocked but i still click on the posts bc the only b/d b/tch content i see is people who absolutely hate it lol 💀

[avsmfs]

THANK YOU

this really hits close to home because i have a bunch of family spread across the caribbean, specifically the leeward islands. and hurricanes always make me nervous because it’s a hotspot for them. and people (*white americans*) don’t seem to understand that these islands are full of human beings are family, are working, who have others that care and worry about them. there are millions of people who live there that matter to others and to have people say “shame about your vacation” is super rude and dehumanizing. those islands hold a part of my culture and family and my heritage

so shame on you for disrespecting that because you only care about your exotic vacations and white sand

The Caribbean does not exist purely for your Vacation/holiday. Millions of people live, and work on those islands. Hundreds of innocent lives will be lost, and hundreds of homes will be destroyed due to these natural disasters. It will take years for these people to rebuild their lives as they once were. So I dont give a FUCK if your cruise got cancelled Karen have some fucking respect for hard working people and fuck off.

[pikapeppa]

Professor Solas/Lavellan: First Impressions

Chap 1 of Inadvisable (professor Solas AU) is posted! In which Nare Lavellan has a chance run-in, literally. 

Beautiful art by Nare’s creator, @elbenherzart​!

~2400 words; read on AO3 instead.

- NARE -

Nare swept her hair into a tidy ponytail, then gave her face one last critical look before stepping out of her bedroom. She tapped lightly on the closed bedroom door across from her own. “Tamaris?” she called. “Are you–”

“I’m coming,” Tamaris grunted. “Give me two fucking minutes.”

Nare smirked at Tamaris’s customary early-morning surliness, then padded quietly down the hall to the living room. Athera was waiting pertly on the couch with a half-finished cup of tea in her hands, and she grinned at Nare as she approached. 

“She’s awake, at least?” Athera asked.

“Awake enough,” Nare said drolly. She sat next to Athera and tucked her legs up on the couch. “Are you nervous about your first day?”

Athera laughed. “Me? Nervous? Of course not! Just a normal first day doing this job for the first time in the only Ancient Elvhen Studies program in the entire country. What’s to be nervous about?”

Nare sympathetically eyed her friend’s bright smile. She didn’t blame Athera for being nervous. Athera had been looking for a research coordinator position for years. Her new job at the University of Orlais was well-earned, in Nare’s opinion, and it was just a stroke of happy fortune that Athera was starting her job at the same time that Nare was starting her Master’s of fine arts with U of O’s prestigious — and infamous — Ancient Elvhen Studies program. 

It was also serendipitous that Tamaris had decided she wanted a change of pace and place, resulting in the three girls splitting the rent on a cozy three-bedroom-plus-studio apartment close to the university.

“Don’t be nervous,” Nare said warmly. “It’s going to be great! By the end of the week, the director will be wondering how they lived without you making the whole lab twice as efficient.”

Athera grimaced and ran a hand through her hair long chestnut hair. “I don’t know. Professor Abelas did not sound that impressed with my lack of experience during the phone interview. I’m still surprised I got the job.”

“He probably thinks he can train you up fresh since you’re so-called ‘inexperienced’,” Nare said knowingly. “He’ll see how good you are in two seconds. I’m sure of it.”

Athera smiled at her. “Aw, you’re sweet. I bet you’re going to impress your new supervisor just as much when you meet with him tomorrow.”

“I hope so,” Nare said. But her belly jolted at the mention of Solas. 

Professor Solas, she reminded herself. Just because she had a crush on her new supervisor’s voice didn’t mean she could start thinking of him in an informal way before they’d even met. 

Oh, but he had such a gorgeous voice. The majority of her communication with Professor Solas had been via email, but the one time they’d spoken on the phone… Fenedhis, Nare couldn’t get it out of her mind. His voice was smooth and mild like a hot vanilla latte, with a curl of an Elvhen accent that made something shiver in her belly in a very visceral way. She was still surprised that she’d managed to keep her calm and sound like a reasonable and intelligent person after hearing Professor Solas’s first few words floating into her ear through the phone. 

And that was just from hearing him talk about the Elvhen art stream of the program and the opportunities for exhibiting her work in the galleries in Val Royeaux. Imagine if he ever spoke to her in that beautiful smooth voice about other, less professional things… 

Stop it, she scolded herself silently. She was being so stupid and horny, developing a crush on a man purely for his voice. Well, not just his voice: he was incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable, and strong-willed to the point of stubborn as well, if his academic position papers were anything to go by. But if Nare was being honest, his intelligence wasn’t the main thing that had been keeping her up at night for the past couple of months since she and Solas had last spoken on the phone. 

It was stupid to be thinking such carnal things about his voice, though. She didn’t even know what he looked like — not for a lack of trying to find out, if she was perfectly honest. She’d searched online for a photo of her soon-to-be supervisor, but he didn’t have a faculty photo anywhere on the U of O website, and a Google search had been shockingly unhelpful, leaving Nare with only a blank slate to imagine along with that knicker-melting voice. 

“Nare, you okay?” Athera said.

Nare jolted slightly, then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

Athera gave her a shrewd look. “Something tells me I’m not the only one who’s nervous.”

“I thought you weren’t nervous,” Nare teased.

Athera grinned, but Tamaris’s grumpy voice interrupted before Athera could reply. “You guys have nothing to be nervous about. You’re going to impress the shit out of everyone. Now let’s go get some coffee already.” She wandered over to the door and started jamming her feet into her scuffed black motorcycle boots. 

Nare exchanged a smirk with Athera, then popped up from the couch. “Good morning, lethallan,” she crooned. 

Athera giggled and hugged Tamaris’s arm. “Good morning,” she sing-songed.

Tamaris groaned. “Fuck off, both of you. I’m only awake this early because I have a client in an hour.” 

“Wait, is it already nine?” Athera said in alarm. She checked her watch, then squeaked. “Oh shoot! Oh shoot, I’m supposed to meet Abelas at the office in fifteen minutes!” She shoved her feet onto a pair of flats and grabbed her bag, then flung open the door. “Bye! Have a good one!” she yelled, and she bolted down the stairs. 

Nare smiled at Tamaris. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

“Lucky you,” Tamaris drawled. “You get to suffer my morning-gremlin attitude all alone.”

Nare chuckled, and they made their way down the stairs at a more measured pace and wandered toward their favourite café at the end of the block. 

It was a perfect crisp early-September day. The sun was a lovely warm wash of light, and the air was fresh and cool without being cold. The leaves hadn’t started changing colours yet, but the quality of their verdancy was starting to shift from the lush springlike undertones of blue to the more autumn-like undertones of yellow. When Nare pointed this out to Tamaris, Tamaris huffed in amusement.

“That’s such an artist-y thing to say,” she said. 

Nare gave her a chiding look. “You say that like you aren’t an artist yourself.” She pointedly eyed the delicate vallaslin that curled around Tamaris’s left eye — vallaslin that Tamaris had carefully tapped into her own skin, and the same skills which had imbued Nare and Athera with their vallaslin as well.

“I don’t often work with colour, though,” Tamaris said. 

“Isn’t your client this morning for a coloured tattoo?”

“Yeah, but that’s different than painting,” Tamaris pointed out. 

“Your tattoo work is amazing, though,” Nare said.

Tamaris smirked. “Fine. We’re both amazing artists with mind-blowing skills. Are you going to buy my coffee for me because I’m so awesome?”

“I’m the student here,” Nare said with a grin. “You should be buying me coffee.”

Tamaris tsked. “Fine. Just this once though, you leech.” She pulled open the café door and gestured sarcastically for Nare to enter before her.

Nare chuckled and slid into the café. They placed their orders together, then sat at a sunny table to enjoy their coffee and fresh scones — vegan blueberry for Nare, and lemon-glazed for Tamaris. 

Nare took the lid off of her cup and blew on her coffee. “So you’re coming to the start-of-year mixer tonight, right?”

Tamaris slumped in her seat and shoved a hand through her lush midnight curls. “Explain again why you want me to come to this mixer thing. I’m not a student.”

“It doesn’t matter that you’re not a student,” Nare said. In truth, she just wanted to get Tamaris out of the apartment before she started forming roots.

“It kind of does,” Tamaris said flatly. “It’s happening at the campus bar.”

“Lots of non-students go to the campus bar,” Nare pointed out. “It’s a nice bar.”

Tamaris grunted. Nare leaned toward her slightly. “Come on, Tam,” she wheedled. “Come to the mixer. Athera’s coming.”

“She works at the university now,” Tamaris pointed out. “It makes sense for her to go.”

Nare wilted. “What else are you going to do if you stay home?”

Tamaris’s reply was prompt. “I’ll rewatch The Archdemon Rises 3 for the fifth time and paint my nails.”

Nare declined to mention that Tamaris’s eggplant-purple manicure was still intact since she’d last done her nails two days ago. Instead, she widened her eyes pleadingly. “Please come? We’ll make a girls’ night of it. It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

Tamaris eyed her stonily for a moment, then sighed. “Ugh, you and your baby blues. Fine, I’ll come.” 

Nare beamed at her and took a bite of her scone. A leisurely half-hour later, they stepped out of the café.

Tamaris stretched her arms over her head. “All right, I’m headed home,” she said with a yawn. “You sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow so we can go to that museum exhibit together?”

Nare shook her head. “I want to see it before my meeting with my supervisor tomorrow.”

Tamaris smirked. “Hoping to impress him with your up-to-date knowledge of the local art scene, huh?”

Nare poked her playfully. “Yes, okay? I want to make a good first impression.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tamaris said. “You always make a good first impression.”

Tamaris’s tone was dry, and Nare gazed fondly at her seemingly standoffish friend. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I’ll see you later.” 

Tamaris nodded and headed back to the apartment, and Nare turned in the opposite direction toward the modern art museum. She pulled her phone out of her purse and tapped open her browser to check the price of tickets for the special neo-Avvar exhibit; she was fairly sure she’d get a discounted admission with her student ID, but some of the museum’s special exhibits were even free for students, and Nare couldn’t remember if— 

She suddenly slammed right into someone. 

She stumbled back, then squeaked in alarm as she tripped over an uneven crack in the sidewalk. Her phone dropped from her fingers, and she grabbed for it even as she tried to find her footing, oh no oh shit she was going to fall down–

A strong pair of hands grabbed her arms, and Nare gasped as she regained her balance. “Shit,” she blurted. “I’m so sorry, I – my phone, I was distracted…”

“The fault is mine. I apologize.” 

A heated ripple of recognition spilled down her spine. That voice. She knew that voice. She’d been replaying that voice in her head for months and wondering what the person who owned that voice looked like: how tall he was, how big his hands were, what his lips looked like shaped around the liquids vowels of that divine Arlathani accent… 

Lightheaded with disbelief, her heart in her throat, Nare lifted her eyes to his face.

Her breath left her in a punch of shock. Gorgeous. He was gorgeous. An impeccably shaven head, a mere hint of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes which put him somewhere in his late 30s or early 40s, lush lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, a delicate divot in his chin and a jawline sharp enough to cut, and his eyes… 

His eyes were perfectly lucid, a perfect quixotic blend of light grey and pale blue that Nare couldn’t quite name, and they were so warm. His eyebrows were creased with a hint of concern, and when the crease in his brow deepened, she realized that she was staring.

“Are you all right?” Professor Solas said. 

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Which was a good thing, because the only words Nare could think were you are fucking hot.

She nodded dumbly. A tiny hint of a smile curled the left corner of his lips, and he released her arms. “I apologize for the collision,” he said, and he crouched down to pick up his book and her phone. “I should know better than to read and walk at the same time.” 

Nare watched stupidly as he rose to his full height. Fenedhis, he was tall.

He held out her phone, and Nare carefully studied his face. There was no recognition there. There was warmth in his handsome face, but no recognition. He didn’t know who she was. 

Not that she would necessarily expect him to, since he was a professional and an intellectual, and professional intellectuals probably didn’t online-stalk their new grad students to find out what they looked like. 

She took her phone with trembling fingers and swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“You’re welcome,” he said. “You are not hurt, I hope?” 

Ugh, he was so good-looking. Why did her supervisor have to be her exact ideal physical type?

She dropped his gaze and tucked a stray strand of hair over her ear. “I — no. I’m fine,” she said in a tiny voice. 

“Good,” he said. “And again, I apologize for the collision.” 

She shrugged and tried to nod at the same time, then wanted to smack herself for being so fucking awkward.

“Take care,” he said. A moment later, he was walking away from her. 

She finally dragged in a breath and watched greedily as Professor Solas walked away. For someone who had such a mild voice and such kind eyes, his gait was certainly confident. 

Confident and sexy. 

Nare blew out a breath and forced herself to turn away. She was shaking. Why was she shaking? Why was her heart beating so hard, not just in her chest but in her entire body? 

Why was her mind completely taken over by the thought of Professor Solas stretching her naked body out on a desk, those warm grey-blue eyes scanning her from head to toe before he taught her all kinds of torrid lessons that she would never forget? 

Fuck, she thought desperately. I am in so much trouble.

[mithrilwitch]

ask!!!

Tagged by: @be-mewraculous Rules: Answer these 20 questions and then tag some tumblr folks you wanna know better!

Name: Lindsey Nicknames: Chachi (dont ask) Zodiac sign: Taurus Height: 5′1" Orientation: Bisexual Ethnicity: Hispanic Fruit: Pink Lady apples!! Season: Summer Flower: sunflowers🌻 Smell: my dogs feet…they smell like Fritos….dont judge me its like when ppl smell baby feet okay….smells good…. 🙊🙈 Animal: Deer Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?: Coffee with too much sugar AND an ice cold sweet tea 💕 Average sleep hours: i need 8 or i turn into a grumpy little gremlin Cats or Dogs: Dogs!!! Favourite fictional character: Solas, Zevran Arainai, Fenris, Cullen Rutherford, Captain America/Steve Rogers, Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen, Cersei Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen, this list could on on for a long time but i only have Dragon Age, superheros, and GoT on my mind rn lol Ideal Trip: the Palace of Versailles so i can wear heels and hear them click click click on those gorgeous floors and be surrounded by the most elegant decor. talk about the ultimate confidence booster.

i tag anyone who has some free time and would like to do this! dont be shy!

[dirthara-an]

(_　_)。゜zｚＺ

I'll pop a bottle of fizzy wine, when I'm finally off this early shift spell. But for now, this gremlin's gotta konk out. My alarm will go in less than 7 hours. <<"

To all the recent new faces here: Hullo. Hi! I'm elated to see y'all here! This blog is selective, but that mostly refers to the fact, that I don't keep every thread going, if it doesn't provide much entertainment value anymore. It doesn't mean you oughta pass some convoluted muse test to play with me. Just drop me a line from an ask box game and I'll see, what I can work it into! Or drop into my dms, if you got a plot idea.

For general verse info:

this blog has three overall timelines:

Arlathan timeline is Dirthamen and his servants during the time of the old elvhen empire, where he is an aloof, ruthless god, who favors scholars over every other class in the realm.

Fade Timeline is his time during his imprisonment in the Fade, where he can selecetively visit people's dreams and even settle in someone's dream realm for good, if he finds them entertaining enough. He's a bored, yet mysterious god in that timeline, inclined to mischief.

Skyhold Timeline Dirthamen managed to escape the Fade, because of the rifts the Breach keeps creating and either got found by Solas himself, or by the Inquisitor and is taken to Skyhold as an aid and advisor on anything experimentally magic as well as old monster and herbal lore. He adapts the name of Souveri in that timeline and assumes the role of a mild-mannered slightly scatterbrained wandering scholar.

[avsmfs]

why is it so hard to find pacrim content that isn’t n*wmann

[avsmfs]

u know i think i’m gonna practice some self restraint and stay out of the mandalorian tag :)

stay here in my safe lil bubble of boba and din raising grogu with fennec as the wine aunt and bo k*tan and her rats fuck off forever :))))))

safe. happy. :)))))))))))))))

[avsmfs]

i might get back into hockeyblr just for calcouver flamnucks

[avsmfs]

i’m tired of the skywalkers

[avsmfs]

wildflower is the bop of the century no i don’t take any criticism

[avsmfs]

quarantine q&a

tagged by the darling @shesasupergeek

are you staying home from school/work?

yeah, there’s a shelter-in-place order and schools in my state have been cancelled for the rest of the year. online starts in a couple weeks

if you are staying home, who's there with you?

my mom and dad

are you a homebody?

yeah, but i still liked going out sometimes. pretty sure im gonna come out of this with one less family member lol

what movies have you watched recently? what shows have you been watching?

i’ve been watching some of my old favorites: the princess diaries, john mulaney specials, ocean’s 8, the a-team, pacific rim, plus miss fisher and the crypt of tears. i’ve also been binging miss fisher’s murder mysteries and grace and frankie. i have plans to binge the clone wars, avatar: the last airbender, leverage, hip-hop evolution, and the librarians

an event you were looking forward to that got cancelled?

i was looking forward to going to my gf’s prom with her, going to prom with my senior friends, and competing in my first regatta with my crew

what music are you listening to?

5sos (go listen to their new album its amazing), megan thee stallion, burna boy, 80s hair bands, reggae, a ton of random shit

what are you reading?

star wars fanfiction, random wikipedia pages

what are you doing for self-care?

FACE MASKS, keeping my space clean, going outside as often as i can, candles, dressing up in cute outfits and modelling them for myself

tagging anyone who wants to do it!!