#himlayan

[hoboblaidd]

✟:The Chantry ☦: The Qun

ask meme - solas has opinions

Solas Greatly Disapproves.

His opinion on both is very similar, except that he’s more vocally against the Qun. I think stems more from the fact that he’s embedded in an Andrastian-run religious institution than because he thinks the Chantry is somehow superior to the Qun.

The Chantry’s dogma is more subtle than the brute force of the Qun, but they both share the same foundation: scare people into submission to a single way of thought.

There is nothing that he finds “good” about the Chantry. He may respect people who are of genuine faith to Andraste, rather than the Chantry’s grandstanding, but that doesn’t mean he agrees with it. Andrastianism in southern Thedas is premised on a fear of magic, and oppression of anyone who doesn’t fit into their idea of a good society. Elves and mages, especially. They call their violent suppressions “Exalted”, very much like our world called the same “Crusades.” They think there can somehow be a middle ground between mages imprisoned in Circles and the Templars who keep them abused and leashed. There’s nothing good or noble in Chantry actions. It’s all about power and preserving the ruling elite’s status.

The only thing the Chantry has on the Qun is that people can still freely think, as long as they do it quietly. 

To Solas, the Qun is irreconcilably reprehensible. There is no room for dissent or honest discourse. It is either submit, die, or reeducation. They have no freedom of either choice or thought. It’s total brainwashing to the point that those under its yoke can’t even realize that they can have dissenting views.

And yeah, this stems from his centuries of experience with the Evanuris. Theirs was a campaign of brainwashing and “divine” subjugation of both thought and will. They physically branded the people they enslaved as their own, and warned against ‘treacherous thought.’ Elvhenan became a society based on fear and oppression, and that's exactly what the Chantry and Qun propagate. They just use "convert" and "penitent" instead of "slaves".

[dryadologist]

@himlayan said: how badly do you need me? / from em 👁️👁️ ( could go so many different ways )

"Finally you're free..." Surely Emily doesn't mean that the way that his brain wants to interpret it. A mischievous smile works its way onto his lips. In an instant, he's crossed the room and backed her to the wall, one arm worming its way around her waist. "How badly?" he whispers into her neck, using his free hand to brace against the wall. "My dearest Emily, I need you like the moon needs the sun for its illumination. I need you like a honeybee needs flowers to pollenate. I need you like..." Wendell trails off, humming against her neck and pulling her ever closer. "Those pigeons outside of the library depend on breadcrumbs for their survival, brainless rats with wings that they are."

He presses a lingering kiss to her cheek and then takes a step away. "But I do rather badly need your help with the typewriter. We don't get along, you know. I've written out the letter that I need typed and left it in your office."

[tcmpestes]

💯 What is my muse’s ideal date? / for leucine!

you: a nice looking but naive land-dweller with glittering accessories. lucy: a hungry siren who you see in the water from your place on your ship. you're drawn to him and try to get to know him better, and he rewards you by dragging you under the water and drowning you! <3

[thrucrax]

“Hold still.   This might sting a little.”   Beatrize warned.

The downside of being one person is that when there are arrows in hard to reach places there is little hope of being freed from the discomfort; even his careful movements would not allow his fingers even an inch within reach of the shaft. Rambert forced himself to relax when @himlayan's hand rested on him as the sharp-hot pain of the embedded arrow made it difficult to not pull away.

“Promise to be gentle?” The corners of Bert's lips twitched, he wanted to smile but the stinging pain in his shoulder flared over any compelled humor.

[championsofthegate]

⭐️ — sun, moon, & rising signs, if known 💭 — MBTI and/or enneagram, if known ❓ — three adjectives that describe you

⭐️ — sun, moon, & rising signs, if known

//I believe it was Cancer sun, Cancer moon, Leo rising? Apparently one cancer sign wasn't enough the universe had to give me two lol

💭 — MBTI and/or enneagram, if known

//I don't have much going on at work so I took a test and got INFP-T which is what I've always gotten I just wanted to check XD

And then I got Type 2 Helper on the enneagram lol

❓ — three adjectives that describe you

//the way I had to make sure what I was writing were actually adjectives lmao I guess easy-going, independent, and intelligent? I like to think I'm those things anyway lmao

[eclipsecrowned]

⭐️ — sun, moon, & rising signs, if known💭 — MBTI and/or enneagram, if known❓ — three adjectives that describe you // @himlayan

Cancer sun, Pisces moon, Scorpio rising! I was once described as a 'Goth-passing Crybaby' with this chart btw. I have been also variously called out for being a textbook Cancer.

INFP that I recall! I took the enneagram forever ago and no longer recall off the top of my head, unfortunately.

Opinionated, awkward, feral.

[recitedemise]

"You hadn't doubted me, I hope. After all, when fed your downright tooth-rotting company, I can't imagine what I'd offer if not a few honeyed words."

Hm. To wander all her life unfelled by time, to most, Gale now imagines, would appear a blessing. She could flavor every summer, sight a million frosty months as they gave to spring, and she would yet seem a soul stood firmly in her twenties, an untouchable, inspiring, and godly thing.

But then, what if it's a haunting? What if it strikes her more an endless wake? Those daisies she would pluck to brighten up her foyer... Even they, even he, will wilt and fade.

She stands ever in mourning. Ji-ah's but a fixture at every shadowy grave. She may never understand him, that illness that he shoulders in agonized fits, but then, why has she the heart for the pitifully wasting? Gale, comforted, lacks the gall to ask. Still, it hardly matters, he supposes, when she would keep him with the daisies in her mosaic, gleaming vase. Any excuse he's afforded to settle in her kindness — it's best to take it in any form he can.

"You're a tremendous deal of things, but that's not exactly a revelation. I could spend all my days going down the list," he answers, "but by the end, never would hollow be counted among them." In other words, apparently, she'a bordering infinite. Huh. Gale turns right back, not entirely aware of the portrait he cuts. He studies the painting, divining all those secrets she's bottled in those greys, and even rich in books with their endless pages, Ji-ah, he finds, proves a much fonder read. "It's a tad somber, naturally," he says, "but I find as I journey through your work, I'm only further compelled to see how much brighter they'll grow. Had you my number, I'd invite you to share with me your inspirations through the night, but seeing as how I'm lacking in yours, your apology, though very much appreciated, is quite unnecessary." Ah. That palor to him still stubborn, somehow, someway, his smile yet beams. "Besides, I argue it's a conversation better suited over coffee." Ahem. "If, of course, we have catching up to do."

she would never want the word miasma to be associated with him. it didn't seem right, for him to fall into that oppressive state of sickness, and to be so consumed by it. ji-ah knew he did not have the physical advantages that she did; he was the more vulnerable of them both, the more susceptible to every danger that endured as a consequence of existence. and yet, to see the dark, creeping veins crawl ever upwards along the column of his neck...

her lips pressed together, her chest expanding outward then caving inward as she took a breath she didn't quite need. i was indisposed, gale said, and the princess of lands long since renamed and remade smiled ever so slightly at her favorite academic. "at least i know you're still a sweet talker." the smile grew, and along with it, a slight pang of guilt. in his absence, ji-ah worried about him, but there was hesitation in her to communicate the full breadth of her concern. they were not foreign feelings at all, the doubt she often felt as she deepened her acquaintance with someone. but a thousand years of unliving and she still second-guessed herself.

"i should have asked you how you were instead of making assumptions," another deep breath borne out of habit, her eyes — a deep, syrupy brown today, only a shade lighter than their original color — were trained on the elegant slope of his profile instead of at the restoration. "i'm sorry, gale." ji-ah whispered, a confession that was just for him to hear. and then her attention swiveled around to the immaculate art piece displayed before them. "i don't quite like this one," she said with customary bluntness. another confession; honesty for the honesty he granted her. "it feels hollow." all bone-white destitution, spartan and cold... looking at it discomfited ji-ah, and so she looked at gale again, and didn't look away.

[hoboblaidd]

❝ no one wants to yearn anymore. ❞ from beatrize!

ask meme - misc sentence starters with a dash of angst

“Perhaps,” Solas allowed, glancing up at the countless stars above the little campsite. This Age had made people cynical, or so focused on their present torments that they had no time for longing or introspection. He did not begrudge them the latter. Once, he had been the same, though that had been before he understood true loss.

“But better to yearn for something we once had, or once could have had, than eschew the regrets of the past altogether. There is wisdom to be found in even the most painful of memories, or the hole of grief that can never be filled. A light touch, a warm smile. We can forget, and perhaps be happier for it, but that does a disservice to that for which we long.”

He sat back, a noncommittal smile on his face. “Or I am simply getting old and chasing memory. But do you not yearn, when the Wardens tell you your time will be cut cruelly short by the corruption in your blood?”

[tcmpestes]

✏️ — how long have you been roleplaying on tumblr? ✍️ — what other platforms have you roleplayed on? 🗒 — what is/are your favorite genre(s)/theme(s) to write?

on tumblr, i think it's been on and off 10-11 years? my first blog was i think for the 10th doctor

the FIRST EVER place that i roleplayed on was fictionpress forums, rest in peace. i've also roleplayed over discord, skype, and -- yes -- even text messages. brief phase of twitter roleplay though i never really got super into it. also a vague...amino phase? anyone remember that app?

i love writing things that are introspective i think. like despite my 'no angst for the sake of it' rule, i do really like angst sometimes, and seeing how things fall apart. especially when it comes to how that changes a relationship, though i do only do this with people that i trust. other than that? i adore a good romance, especially being able to plot something out and write it more or less chronologically

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[popcornbutterfly]

[absurd-construct]

I need help tracking down gemstones. Well, a gemstone. Something pink and very hard. Got ideas?

-- Pink Rock anon

HIMLAYAN SALT BLAST

[dryadologist]

"It's nothing to be ashamed of if you are dehydrated, Em," he returns, a perplexed curl appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Surely nothing to get defensive about. It's our tour guide's fault for not properly taking into account the conditions of this lovely little jaunt through the countryside, so there's no need to get so snarly at me." Curse Emily and her perceptiveness. Everyone else could have a damn brownie pulling at their pantleg and not notice it, yet there she is trying desperately to see around him. Wendell's determined it best he not look over his shoulder again. He has his other senses to rely on, after all. He'll simply need to rely on them to keep track of the current threat.

"Of course I'm distracted." To that he'll wholeheartedly agree. "I've been rather homesick as of late, so I'm doing my very best to enjoy what little time we have in this beautiful country of mine. Forgive me for my wandering eye. I'm simply trying to memorize the green rolling hills before I'm forced back into the monochrome landscape of Cambridge." Bambleby didn't expect her to catch all of his monologue or the smile that pulls as his lips as he watches her walk away from him to join the larger group. He takes an opportunity to breathe in the crisp air, allowing himself one quick moment of oneness with the natural world around them. If he does any more than that, his pining for home will become more unbearable than it already is.

Wendell returns to the pack, crouching down beside Dr. Wilde and making a show of examining a peculiarly-colored mushroom. He's come to the conclusion that field research as a larger group is terribly boring. How long have they stood in the same damn spot? Surly Emily must feel the same, seeing as she's used to wandering every which way for miles every time she's given the opportunity. "An Irish red deer, perhaps," he murmurs, coming to a stand and taking this wonderful opportunity she's so graciously handed him to scan the hillside. "Which would be strange in this part of Ireland, seeing as the main herd rarely strays far from the lands around Killarney." He knows she won't be convinced by his explanation. She's terribly stubborn that way. "You aren't afraid of deer, are you?"

"i am not dehydrated," emily protests, aware of the sudden change in wendell's demeanor. he seems to have forgotten what he had just been staring at in favor of fussing over her, going so far as to suggest that they trudge uphill to sate her imagined thirst. well, it's not entirely fictional; emily is parched, but not enough to start falling over or hallucinating. she's still trying to get a look behind wendell's broad frame at whatever it must be that caught his attention ( at the slight shimmer in the air, like a tiny disturbance in reality's usual frequency ) but there is simply nothing there but the landscape. the secret, it seems, is shunned from her mortal eyes.

"you're the one who seems distracted." she doesn't wait for him to respond and instead, starts to resume her walk up to their little group, using professor errington's bright scarf as a sort of beacon. a suspicion is growing inside emily. there had been other clues before, little tidbits of fact she's kept close to her chest like a deck of winning cards, but this one is a little more telling than the rest. before coming to the trip, she has resolved to observe wendell in what is, essentially, his native land. doubtless that he knows ireland like someone who had been to it multiple times, but there is a slight undercurrent to his display of familiarity. it seems like a watchful sort of apprehension that is only partially caused by the unwise turn of their jaunt to the irish countryside.

emily's breathing starts to come out labored again. it occurs to her that perhaps, she should train her body to be stronger than its current state, as a preparation for the fieldwork required to complete her encyclopaedia. something to look into when they return to cambridge, perhaps. "are you going to tell me what caught your attention back there, bambleby?" emily doesn't have high hopes and is already anticipating his denial, but she still feels like she had to ask. "the journey back will be just as arduous," she blithely adds, stepping around a huge stone on the grassy path that would have sent her hurtling yards ahead, if she failed to spot it. "we might even run across whatever that was that i think you saw." what he saw that she didn't, mirrored in his eyes and hidden from hers.

[hoboblaidd]

The Western Approach!

ask meme - inquisition locations

I've never heard this line in game which breaks my heart because it's top 10 Solas lines for me:

This is when I appreciate learning the magic to prevent sunburn on a bald head.

What a dramatic nerd, but also, relatable.

AS A GINGER (I will not let this go), that sun must be awful. I hope he used that spell on everyone that traveled with him, but that seems too considerate for him. He is, as we know, an asshole.

There isn't a lot of elfy stuff in the Approach. But, the Hissing Wastes aren't far on the map, and he said the Wastes used to be a verdant forest. Perhaps the Approach was as well. It may not have been the seat of an elven stronghold, but maybe it was nicer in the days of Arlathan.

Regardless, he's bitchy about the sun and the sand, so I don't think he loves the Western Approach for purely personal reasons.

There are some interesting links to the Blight here, though. The darkspawn infiltration of Coracavus, and then the weird oily black "sea" on the edges of the map past Griffon Wing Keep. Coracavus is a Tevinter prison, but I guess it's possible it could've been built over an elven site. We don't have evidence of that as far as I can remember. The ritual tower where Erimond's at is also weird looking, but seems more Tevintery than elven to me. Again, could've been a spot in the past, but I don't see evidence.

None of this is really enough to draw an inference of a more deep-seated dislike of the Approach. So in sum, he doesn't like it because "sand is coarse and rough and gets everywhere."

[tcmpestes]

💑 What are my muse’s requirements for a potential partner? / for vanillabean!

i don't think he would admit this, but scone is very attracted to someone very adept in battle. sparring is just another form to flirting, to him! the other thing i think is that they do have to be a little bit of a dork. he thinks it's charming.

[wmab]

PALAGI

Pakiramdam ko, kahit na kaninong matatag na balikat pa ay hindi rin aakma ang aking ulo.

Sa'yo lamang nakahulma ang aking pag-iisip at ang aking mga tunghay sa malayo.

Kahit na kanino pa sigurong matatag na bisig ang umagapay,

hahanapin pa ring mainam ang perpektong lapat ng palad mo sa aking uhaw na kamay.

Himlayan ka na habambuhay ng mapaglayag kong malay.

Nakatatak nang marahil kahit na sino pa ang humagkan.

Tanda na ng aking mga labi ang pasikot-sikot sa kalsada ng sa'yo at sa'yo lang.

Memoryado na ang mga galaw, ang katahimikan, at maski mga hiyaw.

Kahit na sino pa sigurong boses ay tanging bulong mo sa 'king nagniningas-kugon na pag-asa ang pakikinggan.

At kung sirain man ng paborito kong kadiliman ang yong pangalan,

ay sa'yo pa rin marahil mananahanan.

Ikaw at ikaw.

Palagi.

Araw-araw.

.

.

.

Wag Mo Akong Bitawan (WMAB)