#himlayan

[tobebrutal]

" you should come with me to antiva sometime. i imagine you would quite like it. " not just because of an off - handed comment about city life or the fact that there'd been the stink of fish at the market in denerim to remind him of home. always bristling with danger , yes , but getting your blood pumping was a good way to remind oneself it was still where it belonged. " there's music and intrigue.. murder. not to mention the best clam chowder thedas has to offer. and i'm not just saying that to woo you to her charms. "

dirt kicks up , a heavy groan exiting the length of him in a stretch , " and paved roads. i grow weary of all this .. nothing. " nothing but a sprawling farm to the west to put the stench of manure in the air and an old , caved in barn to the east. a view he'd initially thought would be rarer than it was. but zevran was adaptable. he was a newfound grin and the casual corner of sharp eyes , " what say you , @himlayan ? " the flourish is unnecessary , but for the sake of entrapment , he embellishes , " shall we abandon our woodland camp for the night and seek the simple pleasure of a plush , warm bed ? certainly there is an inn somewhere nearby. and i am very capable of keeping this a secret from our companions. "

[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]

"And yet," Gale tells her, "before all that language captured by any artist, it would be your voice alone that I'd notice first."

It's not flattery, he'd assure her. It's as honest of a reality as they ever really come. She wouldn't question it, after all, should a man chase the cosmos and declare the stars bright, so to measure all her hauntings to but believed her honeyed? He's right. She's like berries and icing or a drizzling glaze.

And it becomes her, really, with her devotions to beauty and the mortal soul. She's like something of a keeper, a warden of the dainty and the exceptionally loved. Gale has studied her labor, remarking on the colors and the richness of textures in every star-strung portrait. She would wrest them from obscurity, from those nasty, quiet endings of a slow irrelevance, and only those most laboring of souls could ever manage patience. Shadowing over canvases, she would save in strokes.

She would offer them a future. She'd see beauty and grandeur where the many wouldn't care. Gale accepts her humble offering, humming with some delight as he reads and remembers her number. There, he ponders on whether she had ever one considered him in the manner of her paintings. To mirror parts a Rembrandt or a Starry Night van Gogh... And never, not at all, just a starry-eyed fool.

But starry-eyed, he is, the thought of having coffee geysering his heart. It moves to spill like rivers when she gently takes his arm. Now a torrent, Gale's gloved, welted hand folds over her own. "Well, I'm more than delighted to take you up on that offer. When you've the chance at an audience with the Mona Lisa, you take it. To have even those thirty seconds of her time is not to be wasted." Truly, that was perhaps the most effected bout of praise he could've cobbled for anyone. Undeterred, however, Gale shuffles on out, him kept to her side as they leave the museum. As they walk, the early crawling of autumn bites and tickles and nibbles at their cheeks. Ji-ah's freezing on a good day, pale as marble or untrodden snow sat in valleys. He presses in closer to keep her warm. He's a furnace. He's tweed blazers, a nice peacoat, and slight cover from the sun. Dear gosh... "You're not one to give up on something, are you?"

In time, the scent of coffee takes the air. For weeks on end, she could've let go of him.

her tooth-rotting company, hmm? gale thinks her sweet despite her sharp teeth, her endless hunger, the cacophonous well of her desire.

she, who is haunted and haunting. the cursed princess of goryeo.

a surge of affection rushes towards ji-ah. her chest swells with it, her insides warm like melted butter under the morning sun. any other person and it would be so easy to resist, to brush off the honeyed words as some feeble attempt at flattery, a deliciously sweet con to curry her damnable favor.

but it is gale. her gale. and so, it is different.

"i only restore them, you know. and collect them, i suppose." she's got a good eye, it's always been said. even when she was still part of the royal household, so many lifetimes ago. she knew talent when she saw it and made sure the royal family employed only the best in all of silla. ji-ah loves beauty; the inherent terror and eroticism in it, the emptiness of it that you can fill with whatever meaning your heart desires. it is up for interpretation for whosoever dares to behold... and appreciate... its grandeur.

she takes his words as a subtle suggestion and pulls her business card out of her wallet, handing it to him with a flourish.

"you can call me anytime. i'm a nocturnal animal, as you well know, and will always answer unless i'm otherwise occupied, which isn't often." ji-ah beams at him, a smile so usually cold and wan but fiercely bright and warm for gale. and then she twines her arm with his — gentle, careful, for he is still so sickly sallow that she is more than inclined to handle him with only the utmost safe-keeping — and leads him to the general direction of the door. "coffee, you said? there's a new cafe down the street. i'll buy us both a cup and some pastries."

[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.