#guarddogbiscuits

[bushelofmuses]

@guard-dogbiscuits Cont.

They were getting too old for the excitement, weren't they? Gods, someone might joke that they'd need a nap just so they could keep up with everyone else in the festivities. He was thankful that things were always moving or that they were always busy. It kept him from wallowing in self-pity or worrying about the future.

Ameridan sipped his wine, looking at the door over the glass rim. His lips twitched towards a smile. Good. Elpenor and Dorian deserved that; they deserved to be happy.

"They've only been dragging their feet for months..." Not that he could fault them for it. He didn't know their reasons for waiting. Maybe it was caution; maybe it was just them dancing around each other. Whatever the case, they got their acts together and could be happy now.

He snorted, "Pity for them or for her? I feel she's dodging arrows right and left; most of them are rubbish."

Ameridan had seen one or two make attempts to woo her, and their failures were pitiable on the one hand...but excellent entertainment on the other. He felt a little sorry for her that she'd have to deal with it at all, however. Maker, Drakon had had a time of it before he'd settled down. He wouldn't wish that attention on anyone.

"Careful though. You might wind up on Josephine's list next."

[altuspavus]

"Something doesn’t feel right." (Inquisitor Lennie, about the Winter Palace Uniform. Which among other things, clashes horribly with her red hair.} "This looks ridiculous on a Qunari. Can't I just wear my armor? Bet you anything I'll end having to change into it anyway..."

@guard-dogbiscuits

Dorian nodded in understanding. Something not being right was an understatement. Alas, he had offered his assistance and services many a time to the tailors and been turned away each time. Something about his 'Northern ideals on fashion' not fitting in, as if he had not been to Orlais, had entertained Orlesians, had kept up with their latest fashions for the majority of his life (admittedly half of the time to mock their choices in comparison to the clearly superior Tevinter choices, but that was of no matter).

He pulled at the collar of his own, matching, quite literally identical, uniform. "It is.... a statement, for sure. A statement of what, exactly, is beyond me. The colour is.... red." Astute, Pavus. "At least the fabric is.... ah... woven tightly enough that we shall not freeze to death?" Though it was horrendously scratchy, which was impressive in all the wrong ways.

"While it would certainly be simpler and most likely far more comfortable, armour is hardly the outfit of choice for an event such as this. We must look.... presentable." It took a ridiculous amount of effort for Dorian to call their uniforms such a term, but at least he did not try for a kinder word. "We must look, ah... military, but also able to play The Game and understand politics, we must appear as clearly united..." Which could be done with complementary colours and coordination as opposed to identical uniforms, in his not-so-humble opinion. "And we must not offend the nobility, which, unfortunately, is likely to happen if we showed up in armour." Dorian was sure that it would be clear in his tone and expression how this pained him just as much as it pained her, though clearly for differing reasons.

[bushelofmuses]

"Gods have the mortality of belief," he murmured. Power so long as someone believed in their existence and power. Mortals had great power over the gods, just as the gods' might lorded over them. An interesting game of tug-of-war.

"Will Aphrodite lash out for what was done with him? Or did she already?" Part of him hoped not. The last thing anyone needed was a war between gods...and he hoped he wasn't prying too much as he asked, "And is...divorce a thing here? Or would you two still be wed, even if she left?"

Seeing Hades smile calmed his thoughts however, and he found himself smiling in return. It felt almost secretive, like smiling in this moment was illicit. Should they be smiling right now? Was it appropriate?

"You're having to do it...by sneaking around?" Did he understand that correctly? Whatever worked, he supposed. So long as things were made right, and no one was hurt in the process, he couldn't find fault in whatever methods a person utilized.

"He was never hers to keep," said Hades. "She more or less stole him from her...Aunt, I guess you could call her. Aphrodite. With us, it is hard to define blood and kinship. We have all died and been reborn and redefined so many times. Gods and mortals influence each other more than most of us are willing to admit..."

"Persephone should cut her losses, and go home to Olympus. There's nothing to prevent it. The original bargain was between her father and me. He was humiliated to see his daughter chasing after a mortal, and thought marrying her off was the solution. He should have picked Hermes, not me. Herm is eternally young and beautiful, and he adores her. But alas, he has no kingdom..."

"And yes, I could take back Elysium. In fact I am working on it." He smiled, for the first time in the conversation. "Through a few...agents I have set in place."

@bushelofmuses

[softersinned]

@guard-dogbiscuits said: ❝ oh, i do love a violent woman. ❞  (Lord Jagged, Vampire AU)

Living for centuries has done plenty, but it hasn’t made her immune to flattery. Astoria flashes him a bright smile, and she’d offer a theatrical bow, too, were she better positioned for one. Rather, she’s perched on a rooftop like a gargoyle, all sharp and inhuman angles, and instead she tips an imaginary hat in his direction.

        “Just doing a favor for a friend.” Astoria’s voice is tinged with false modesty. “You know how it goes. Every now and again somebody’s been alive for too long and it’s time to fix it. It’s a public service, if you think about it. I hope he wasn’t one of your friends. I’d hate to offend, but there’s no changing the past, and... well, there isn’t much left to put back together, is there?”

          And she leans forward, now, almost far enough that she’ll topple off her perch, and her grin widens. “So? To what do I owe the pleasure? Do you just happen to be passing through the same place I’m passing through, or were you looking for me?”

[deathmaidened]

@guard-dogbiscuits (raleigh samson) / starter call.

"You'll have to forgive the questions. I never received a formal education in magic."

Or, at the very least, a formal education from the Chantry. Her education from the Augur was quite comprehensive. She's found it a difficult line to walk overall, though it gets easier by the day: striking the balance between Avvar and Herald, mage and politician. She drums her fingers heavily against the arm of her chair, lips pressed together in a thin line, brows furrowed, and she refrains from asking the question she'd like to ask the most. (Her welcome will no doubt wear thin if she goes around asking why it's a surprise to anyone that the Divine was assassinated or why so many people around her want to bother with propping up such a profoundly useless institution.)

"The lyrium provided to the Templars by the Chantry is what gives them their abilities to suppress and contain magic, but it also significantly lessens the Templar's potential healthy years, upon which the recruit can be relied to, ah, enforce Chantry law. And would I be correct in assuming that withdrawal from lyrium has its own disastrous consequences?"

For what it's worth, she's exhausted with making decisions like this one. She may not be particularly principled, but determining whether or not to continue forcing recruits to consume poison for the sake of effectiveness as an army makes her more than a little ill.

"So, correct me if I'm wrong at any point, but I now have a force of Templars dependent upon a substance to which neither they nor I have ready access, without which their abilities and military performance will suffer and they will enter a period of severe withdrawal. And if I obtain said substance, I am condemning these Templars to further addiction and eventual death?"

For once, she feels genuine sorrow for the Templars.

"How long does the withdrawal last?" she asks finally. "How severe is it? And would a Templar who's survived it still be able to combat magic?"

[bushelofmuses]

@guard-dogbiscuits From Open

Cole was easy to startle; loud noises or sudden movements blared in his mind like a horn. A man of his stature appearing without warning certainly had bells tolling loudly in his head and he jerked away from him. "Nearly coming out of his skin," Varric might say. So that's what he meant by it.

He eyed him warily from beneath the wide brim of his hat, but listened intently. Cole was almost scared to let his mind reach out to feel his thoughts and emotions, but curiosity won and he tried.

He sounded...sad, heartbroken, wistful, or helpless maybe? Helpless was such an odd word to use to describe someone like him. Someone so—yes, trying to feel his emotions was a terrible idea and he should have listened to himself. It was overwhelming and so loud.

Cole grimaced and shrank away a moment, shoulders raising to his ears as he quickly blocked it out. He wouldn't do that again.

"Does she know the pain she causes?" he finally asked.

The stranger was right, though; it was gorgeous here. But it should be loud...in a peaceful way, he supposed. Like a bustling city street during a festival, the excitement of chattering citizens.

"...It's not your fault."

[bushelofmuses]

On impulse, he tugged the brim of his hat down. It was strange being on the receiving end of someone reading another's thoughts. He had never experienced it; is this what everyone else felt when he read their thoughts and emotions? Maybe he should tone it down in the future so he doesn't make them more uncomfortable. It was an unpleasant feeling.

Making others suffer was...difficult to respond to. One had to be careful not to lash out in anger at the offending party; it was never easy. Given his nature, his first thought was to eliminate the source of other people's pain.

That was, obviously, not an option this time. It wouldn't go well, for one. Two, it wasn't the appropriate response.

"The pain of keeping him will only deepen the divide between them...the wound will fester until there's nothing but resentment on both sides. She needs to let go...soon." It was the only way to salvage what may remain of their relationship.

That couldn't be easy on Hades, though. Knowing your partner's heart belonged to another, even if their marriage wasn't exactly a mutual, enthusiastic, agreement between them. It must hurt.

"Is...there anything that would help them? To make it easier for them to come back here, even if she doesn't help?" He didn't know if there was anything he could do, but couldn't Hades resume control over Elysium?

@bushelofmuses

The helmet of Hades could do far more than make him invisible. It enabled him to hear unspoken thoughts, including Cole's, and even influence people's actions.

He could have tried to keep this from Cole, as he often did with others, but with Cole it felt wrong. So he answered the unspoken thoughts, aloud.

"Neglect is the greatest of Persephone's crimes," he agreed. "The peaks of Elysium are littered with crumbling settlements that could...should...have been kept in good repair. This makes people who all their lives did their best wonder why they bothered. It clearly makes no difference to their queen."

Asked about annulment, Hades sighed and shook his head. "I offered her the choice. She liked the idea, but her father would not have it. He said it would be an insult to his standing. All he would agree to was that she could make occasional visits to her mother. Who of course is welcome to visit here as well, but never does."

He sighed again. "Sometimes I think people worship us because our behavior makes them feel better about their own..."

"But to be honest, I think it is not so much me or her father that Persephone is angry with. It is Adonis, the young man involved in her youthful...indiscretion. She won't admit it of course, but she had hopes that bringing him here might reignite the spark between them."

"Her mistake was that she brought him here prematurely, instead of waiting until the time came naturally. And now he is the one who wants to be free."

[bushelofmuses]

"Ah. The family legacy..." He'd never really grasped the need for it. He and Telana were never really worried about continuing a family line of any kind. Maybe because of Samson's point: elves lived longer. Well, some of them did. Ameridan was sure he was skewing the numbers a little, given his situation. He didn't know if they still lived longer than humans.

He added it to his mental list of things to look into; he'd missed too much. Maybe Gredal or Myrna knew. Myrna certainly would.

"If they want grandchildren in the family that badly, they can always adopt. I know, I know, it's not quite the same, but still..." Kids were a big responsibility, and besides, did either of them have the time for it?

A good home is one where the children are more than wanted. There was no sense in pestering the pair of them about it; they'd make up their minds in their own time.

Ameridan then wrinkled his nose at that and recoiled. No. No, he hadn't heard that Gaspard was...that's foul. Just foul. "Eugh. Please tell me you're not serious. Did he really?"

He wouldn't have wished that man on anyone, not even his worst enemy. Actually, he wouldn't wish any of those vipers on anyone else. With a grimace, he took another sip of his wine. "Girl deserves far better than that...and anything most of Orlais has to offer."

After a moment of silence, however, he sighed and reached out to clap Samson on the shoulder. "Don't jinx it. If anyone could find a way to make it happen, it would be that woman. She's relentless."

And too clever for her own good...or maybe for everyone else's good.

@bushelofmuses

"The pity's for her father," Samson clarified. "According to Elpenor, the old man worries there won't be grandkids. Not that he needs them, mind you, his lot lives as long as yours..." Samson bit his lip as he remembered Telana, thought about apologizing, decided it might be best to change the subject. He'd put his foot in it right proper.

"Yeah, they are rubbish," he agreed about Lennie's suitors. "From what I've seen, It's more like them dodging her arrows. Or better yet, her arrows and Sera's bees." For awhile he'd thought there might be a spark between Lennie and Sera, but they'd had a falling-out over the Temple of Mythal.

"Would you believe Grand Duke Gaspard was hinting at himself as a match for the lass? Slimy old bastard. I suspect that may be one of the reasons Elpenor made no move to save his arse."

He smiled ruefully at Ameridan's warning. "Oh, our Josie's tried to marry me off a few times. I keep telling her it's a lost cause."

[bushelofmuses]

He nodded in acknowledgement. "It's...a new feeling, that's all. I'm sorry for my fear. I'm Cole..."

Elysium. How was he here then? He was whole...well, mostly whole. Too whole for this place. He didn't remember dying.

Could he die? No. Not like them...he didn't think anyway. So much had changed.

So was neglect her crime?

It wasn't the souls' faults that they may be unhappy; souls didn't always have control over that. They were raw, open, and far more expressive than they were in life. There was no reason to hide, and nothing to hide behind. Masks didn't work for the dead.

Surely there was a way for her to go that didn't end horribly for everyone. She was hurting people like this, and damaging Hades's...domain? Was that what it was called? He was mostly certain that it was.

Besides, if they were both unhappy with the arrangement...

"Can it be..." What was the word again? He didn't know if it fit their situation. "...annulled? Would that fix things? Could they come back then?"

Hades could have said no, should have, but he couldn't control her actions. Her choices were her own.

Cole shook his head. "She chose to hurt them, not you."

It was his fault that she may have been unhappy or that she felt the need to lash out, but he couldn't dictate her actions, could he?

X

@bushelofmuses

Why Here? Why Not Somewhere Less Haunted? (continued)

"I didn't mean to startle you," the stranger apologized. "I tend not to show myself when I'm...investigating." He smiled faintly. "It's less...shall we say, intimidating? But by the time I realized I should introduce myself, it was too late to avoid...awkwardness."

"So please, forgive my manners. I am...well, I've had many names, but most people call me Hades, for the realm I oversee. Some call it Tartarus, but that is only the worst part of it. This..." He gestured around himself. "...Is Elysium. The best part, or so it was meant to be."

He sighed, "But now, the very people who most deserve to be here would rather be crowded together in my small palace, than in my wife's shining city on the hill."

"Does she know of the pain she causes?" He thought about it, and shook his head. "I honestly think she believes what she says...that anyone who would dare to be unhappy in her perfect realm is unworthy to be here."

"As for this not being my fault...I'm the one who brought her here. Her father wanted her married off, because of what he considered an inappropriate attachment on her part. As for me, I needed a queen. The gentler spirits here deserve a gentle hand..."

He shrugged. "She wanted no part of me. Her mother objected, on her behalf. But her father insisted."

"I could have refused, but I didn't. So yes...it is my fault."