#i say like he hasn't been this way. for ages. ugh. chases him with a pool noodle (affectionate)

[tiredassmage]

27, 13, and 7 for the new Rook questions!

Thank you, thank you, you know I always love talking about my beloved son <3

[50 questions for Rook (story-edition?)]

7. Did Rook ever encounter the Blight before the events of the game?

For better or worse, Tyr's called Minrathous home for as long as he can remember, which has certainly presented its own challenges, but Blight, at least, wasn't one of them. The kind of corruption that's familiar to him is what he might, on his more sullen days, accuse of being peoples' own - no potentially-apocalyptic deviations needed, something that has at least some kind of rooting back in being raised by a Tevinter military family with lessons about due deference and keeping your head down. Also the same kind of talk that made him so keen to join the Shadow Dragons when the offer came.

13. Which companion did Rook romance? What was the moment they fell in love?

Neve! You're allowed to say I'm predictable!!! 😭I swear I mean it when I didn't go in with any particular expectations or plans, but in hindsight, frankly of course he'd fall for Neve Gallus.

I do think there was a sort of natural gravitation to her for their shared work with the Shadows - that told him more than enough for him to take her advice on matters. As for how it happened? I'm not sure there's a single moment where he fell forward on his face about it, though I'm sure the moment he realized he'd fallen for her was a bit more matched to that description, lol. Probably... that first outing to the docks over Hal's fried fish? Okay, so maybe that wasn't the completely liable to trip over himself about her moment, but I think it's the beginning of his realizing he... really wants to get to know her. More. For all her talk of realism bordering on pessimism she accuses herself of, the Neve Gallus he sees is a woman determined to hold on to the little slice of hope she does have, and someone whose not, perhaps, as completely downtrodden about the world as she may seem. Her sense of humor never missing a chance to tease about tripping him up over what he's trying to say - even when it isn't flirting, or the gentle amusement with Bellara and Tevinter serials.

I think there's a lot of similarities between them that draw them together. Yes, they share the same goals with ties to the Shadow Dragons, but I think... even on a more personal outlook kind of note... maybe that they feel rather similarly about those goals? Or at least Tyr believes with a fairly high amount of certainty Neve isn't so far from believing ideals aren't entirely fairy-tales herself. And he wants to see more of that Neve Gallus - the hints through the cracks with the jokes and the fondness for the team, for the wisps (as much of a headache as them rearranging her notes may be), for Assan... for something a little... better, perhaps.

And, boy... that's when I think he falls hard. That side of her that's more playful, almost a bit... lighter. When he gets it in his head that he wants to prove that that side of her still has a place in it all, to encourage it and see more of it? There was no helping that man, and even two risen would-be gods weren't going to stop him from trying. And that's why he's Trouble. :3

27. Does Rook like being in charge of their team?

Honestly? For the most part, I think the answer is yeah. It's not probably much of a surprise given what made him fall so hard for Neve, but Tyr... does enjoy helping people he cares about - quite a bit. It's nothing to do with the title of the position and everything to do with just... enjoying being a person or a space they can come to for support. Someone they can count on.

And that's a boon to having a small, specialized team to him considering things as a leader. They get to know each other's strengths well, and get to build with focus then on how best to support one another.

Granted, the other side of this is that Tyr's not really the type to slow down until the pressing matters are handled to consider what wear and tear has worn him down, and even when actively questioned about it, his first response is generally to put aside what's troubling his own mind to ensure others are managing alright enough first. I can collapse when this over and all that.

But the Lighthouse would never have felt remotely like home, or even perhaps... 'safe,' if you will, without the team - the people - around him. At the end of most days, I think... Tyr generally believes most people are good. The world is good. And it does a lot, I think, for him to have the kind of moments where that's exercised - building a team and being allowed to walk a part of their journey with them, for example, let alone how grand some of those journeys can seem on paper. The return of the griffons to Thedas, what it's like trying to navigate family, even... It's always nice knowing you're not alone having dreams and hopes in life after all, right? And those can be a lot easier to find when you've got someone ready to offer you hand when the inevitable stumbles happen. Bring the Light, as the Shadows say.

What can I say? Under whatever understanding of the realities of politics and betrayals and the other machinations that make the world go 'round, especially in a place like Tevinter, he always was a man of deep ideals. And people are... unpredictable, by nature. There's a lot of charm to that for him, on the sunnier days. And if he keeps looking off the docks like this at me I'm gonna start playfully teasing him about waxing over-poetic about it, but then he did also regularly moonlight as a pianist (a hobby he still enjoys, mind), so perhaps there'd be some truth to it, too. :3

He's stealing your music room, Solas. No take-backs.

[holdon-a-minute]

As Time Repeats

Chapter I

A New World

*Present Day*

Shuffling feet, deep laughs, screeching brakes, choirs of songbird, pieces of conversation...each adding to create the loud bustle that loafs through the street. Listening. She slowly raises her eyelids, to only be greeted by the soft morning sun welcoming each body with its warmth.

Shining smiles, trees of chartreuse, paves of stone grey, breeze-caught hair...all merging together to paint one picturesque scene. Watching. She rests back onto the wooden public bench, controlled deep breaths escaping through her button nose.

Mature parfum, strong mowed grass, golden-baked delicacies, polluting fumes, freshly ground coffee beans...scents of good and bad are to be known everywhere you turn. Inhaling.

Now comes feel.

"Ugh..." Renae lets out an exasperated breath in defeat, sitting her elbows on her spread knees and burying her face deep in her dry palms. She tightly traps her airways, holding her breath as the tears threaten to spill from her eyes once again, before she stops herself and forces the words off her tongue, "I do not want to feel this way." She may not be happy now, she thinks to herself, but this is the start of a new beginning. And at new beginnings there is always hope. "Be optimistic..!" she whispers to herself, but Renae knows better than anyone that it's hardest to keep up with your new start when you didn't even want it in the first place.

Standing from the bench, she turns her judging eyes away from the classy lady who had tried to sit down beside her, and soppily strolls down the direction of her destination. Renae pushes herself past—fitted in her signature style of a soft fabric zip-hoodie and a dark leather jacket layered on top—determined to get through the swarm of bodies and make it back to her quiet house quickly. She wanders through Paris as if she's known it all her life now; the street of shops damp and dewy. Wind whistles through her raw ears as they heed the leftover rain that pitter-patters through gutters, down drain pipes and into the city grids.

The screeching, beeping of a pedestrian crossing makes a deafening echo as Renae and a huddle of rushing people cross the cobbled road, instantly zooming her back into focus of reality. Walking through the avenues of France you can smell dozens of different scents everywhere and anywhere. But Renae's favourite of all, she's come to realise, is the trace of a gingerbread man that runs past her. Every time, he calls out, and every time she ends up chasing him to Mr Baker's Bakery. Mmm, the bakery. This is where the baker she's come to know torments everybody with his luscious pies and pastries sitting on display in the window. And when he opens his huge oven door every day, religiously at 10:30, the whole road is filled with the most sensational smell of freshly baked bread rolls.

When her leg starts to vibrate, she reaches into her pocket and answers the person calling, "Hello."

"Ren, how come you're not home yet? You're going to be late."

"I'm on my way now Alice, and I've got half an hour yet. That's plenty of time to get ready."

"Well have you had any lunch yet? You can't go on an empty stomach your nerves will get the better of you."

Renae chuckles, "I'm not that nervous Al, I'll just eat an apple or something on the way there."

"An apple? Alright then, whatever suits you, I'm not going to argue with you on this important day now am I?"

"No, and I shouldn't think so," she teases as a smile plays at her lips and Renae rounds the corner. "Right, I'm round the corner now I'll be two minutes."

"Okay hun, see you in a minute. Bye."

"Bye!"

Renae was now in the neighborhood, the rush of the street of shops (as Renae and Alice call it) now gone, giving way to the open and tranquility of her housing estate. She loves her short over-the-phone conversations with Alice. They always play quite amusingly, and never fail to reveal their bond of trust, love and laughs.

She swings into the hallway of her home, and is almost immediately greeted with a "Hello!" coming from another unlocated room of the two-bed house, as usual. She shouts back a 'Hi!" and rushes upstairs, dodging another of her Aunty Alice's extremely energetic speeches that are supposed to be the best motivator out there. She changes into something a bit more formal, touching up her makeup as she passes the standing mirror, fills her faux leather bag with almost everything from her desk (just in case), picks up an apple and heads back out onto the street, where her taxi is conveniently waiting.

"Good luck!" Alice wails as she watches her niece drive straight into the fate of adulthood.

~~~~

*Ding-a-ling*

Renae steps through the old brown door and enters the café she hopes to call a workplace sometime soon. The space is fairly large considering its compact look from the outside, and it is so beautiful—everything the young photographer in the corner would need for his aesthetically pleasing Instagram page. She lets the soft, welcoming atmosphere envelop her whole as she strolls deeper into the intricate café, the warmth of brewing tea, the fresh scent of lavender, the ancient bookcase lining the wall, the smokey smell of lit candles, the dark brown wooden furniture, all making Renae feel as cozy as you can be in a Paris café. The building has an aged, withering feel, but the dozens of lush green plants dangling from ceiling to floor brought the life back into the room quickly; the pop of bright emerald managing to spark the creativity into any person who might pass through.

She finds her way to the counter, and politely addresses the waitress. "Hi, I'm here for a job interview with the owner. My name's Renae Cruzette, I rang a few days ago."

"Oh chéri, that would be me," the woman speaks in perfect English, but with a French roll to her tongue, "Come with me and we'll have a seat. Would you like some tea?"

"Green tea would be nice, thanks," Renae replies and finds a small round table for two to sit down.

"I'm Clemence Rosher—founder, owner—of this place, as you will already know."

Renae smiles and does a little laugh, "It's nice to meet you Clemence." The two shake hands as the bleach-blonde woman passes Renae a steaming mug of green tea, the teabag still left in of course.

"Yes and you are Renae Cruzette, you said?"

"Mhm." Renae was waiting for the traffic of questions to come along and preparing herself not to get stuck or lost in them, but they never did, and she finds herself feeling utterly relaxed with the welcoming woman before her.

"So, let's get down to business yes? Why are you here today?"

"I'm looking for a first job actually, and when I heard you were hiring it seemed perfect, because I don't live too far from here and I love baking every now and then, as well as being creative with coffee art. I'm quite the artistic person, you see."

"Good good. That's what I like to hear," Clemence looks into Renae's eyes and gives a shining bright smile, "So are you willing to give your all into this job? I need someone new, someone fresh who will put a part of their soul into my café. I need perseverance, a respectful and capable person. Why would I choose you?"

"I am all of those things and more Miss."

"Madame," she interrupts.

"Right, sorry Madame."

"Who always comes first in my business?"

"The customer does, always!" Renae eagerly answers after not understanding the question for a few seconds.

"Are you good with mathematics? Can you quickly count change?"

"Yes, I graded a nine in my GCSE when I lived in England."

"In England you say? I thought you had a different accent chéri!"

"Yeah I just recently moved here actually."

"Tell me a bit about that then. Why did you move, are you here permanently?" Clemence curiously asks.

"I think I'll be staying here for a good few years now until I have the money to move out and go back to Britain. I've always lived with my Aunty, ever since I was a baby. My parents have never been around, I don't even remember my mother's face, but my Aunty Alice got a promotion, so we had to move here."

"Oh chéri that must be terrible for you, not even knowing your parents!"

"It's fine really! I love Alice so much, she's always been there for me and I respect her with all my heart for deciding to take me in, but she never took the opportunity to become my mother. She's always been my aunty and kept the truth at bay about my parents."

"I see, so is she your true biological aunt then?"

"Yes! She's my father's sister."

"Oh she must be so very brave then, I admire her strength taking in just a child!"

"I do too. You know she is French as well, so it was a delight to her when the company said she'd be moving to their Paris branch. She took me in when she was just eighteen, and we both went to England so she could finish university. It was very stressful for her, and I am so greatful for her determination to not only provide a steady life for herself, but for a child that wasn't even her own too!"

*Snap*

"Yes she sounds like an amazing woman! So how old are you now then?"

"Seventeen."

*Snap*  The photographer guy's camera clicks away

"When would you be willing to start? I'd have to give you some training first of course, but it'd be nothing major."

"As soon as possible Clemence!"

"Okay then how about I give you a call next Monday when I'm ready for you to come down? I have meetings and all sorts until then."

*Snap*

*Snap*

"Perfect, thank you so much!"

"Oh no worries, I have great expectations of you," and she give Renae a wink as they stand and part ways, Renae not knowing yet that it'd be the last time she speaks to the friendly woman who owns a café.

*Snap*

~~~~

Five days later.

"Alice, she still hasn't rang me after three days!" Renae bursts as she storms into the kitchen. A series of transparent patio doors line the back wall of the completely white kitchen, the only colour of the room being the numbers of herbs scattered along the windowsills and the grey laminate flooring below. It reminds Renae of a hospital, and she would very much like to hand some paintings on the walls and colourful flowers, nevertheless it's still comfortable to be in when you've got Alice as company.

"She probably just forgot, don't stress," Alice reassures her.

"I saw her write it in her diary! And she definitely said that she was going to employ me. It's getting ridiculous! Even if she did change her mind about me, a little text to apologise wouldn't hurt!"

"I know, she shouldn't have left you hanging like that, that is very unprofessional," Alice speaks in such a wise, calming manner.

"I really would've liked that job as well," she says saddened now, "It would've met all my needs of a simple first job, but one that I would still enjoy and be easy to settle into."

"I know Ren, but you can't just sit here sulking about it, why don't you go back there and see what's going on with this woman—for your own sake at least."

"What if I make it more awkward though?"

"You won't. You're only going to politely ask when you're going to be set for some training, because you've got other things you need to attend and you can't keep having it delayed or being left in the dark."

"I suppose..."

"Come on, it's not fair on you that she's done this, so go and change out of that old hoodie and get down there standing loud and proud!"

"Okay, thanks Al," and Renae gives her understanding Aunty a bear hug, then rushes upstairs to prepare herself to face Clemence again.

~~~~

The moment she steps out of the front door, an ear-splitting ring starts to sound in Renae's earlobes and an eye-aching migraine begins to crawl into her mind. She should just brush it off, but not matter how hard she tries, Renae just can't shake the bad feeling that drops to the pit of her stomach and the butterflies that flutter up and get lodged in her throat. Renae steadies herself on the doorway for a second, closing her eyes to ease the pounding in her head. She takes a shaky breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, and pushes aside this feeling, ready to take on her plan of action.

Her taxi ride seems to drag on for hours in the stuffy, cramped backseat, the breeze of the day barely noticeable even with the car windows all open. The heat is almost unbearable. Renae can't understand if it's anxiety (which she's never experienced before), or an illness she's suddenly caught that's making her feel this way, but something isn't sitting right in her flesh and bones. Due to the long, unmoving queue of vehicles, Renae decides to just pay the taxi driver now and walk down the rest of the way where café stood stunningly at the end of the road.

She looks about her to see that everyone is busy trying to get to places, and as she strolls further down the street she notices that she's come to a hidden alleyway, "Millbreury Lane, hm." Given her situation and the want to avoid it completely, Renae roams down the alleyway of tall, old-fashioned buildings taking her time to observe her exquisite surroundings.

Right along the bottom of the attached buildings are stores, and they are magnificent to the eye: cafés sit with intricate metal tables and chairs outside; hanging baskets spread throughout are filled with the most colourful, delicate flowers; antique shops showcase their treasures in the wide window each store possesses; and the cobbled floor beneath glows and sparkles as the afternoon sun shines down on the moist puddles and excess rain.

*Chuchak*

Renae stands still. So impossibly still.

The beautiful antique alleyway seems to disappear around her in slow motion as Renae is sucked back into reality and her eyes are met with metal.

Thick, cold, silver-grey metal.

Pointed at her forehead, in-between her eyes, is a slick handgun. For a while she cannot see the person whose hand is slid around the trigger, nor the group of men accompanying them. For a while, it was just her and the weapon, playing a dangerous game in a little world of their own—the opponent not even alive but still taking the lead and winning the girl over completely. She cannot break her eyes away from the metal in front of her, and the hand-held violence cannot take its eyes off Renae.

She feels frozen in her place, barely able to breathe, as the gun wielder speaks, "Oh chéri," before smacking Renae over the side of her head with the loaded gun.

All soon went black.