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flowerflamestars · 4 years ago

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Nesta Under the Mountain: acowar remix

The first thing Nesta hears when she wakes up, is Rhysand.

Who is right by her bedside, waiting, apparently for this exact moment of her eyes opening and coherency on her face to say, with full High Lord gravitas: we would have gone with you.

Cassian, who has given up any pretense, and is literally on the floor between Rhysand’s armchair and Nesta’s bed, kicks him.

They didn’t know what happened to her- couldn’t find any wounds, any marks at all, but Nesta wouldn’t wake up. It’s Amren who insists, who sits perfectly still by her side for an hour and says- she did something. She did something like what I did.

Lucien, poisoned with faebane and stabbed in the heart, was lucky to be alive, in and out of consciousness. He’d been awake in the days that followed for just ten minutes. During which he used the hand Azriel was persistently holding to leverage himself out of bed, fallen, been caught by Azriel, and somehow dragged himself to Nesta’s side before passing out, stitches popped and bleeding.

There’s two beds in the room now.

Cassian doesn’t have the room to process- but he’s noticed, how he’s noticed- that Azriel has spent these days more than not like he is now: Lucien’s hand in both of his.

A frozen elegy, Lucien’s scarred knuckles, pressed to his mouth.

Nesta’s awake, and Azriel hasn’t dropped Luciens hand.

Listen, Cassian hasn’t slept in days. He thought, truly, Nesta was never waking up. That he was going to sit here and watch her slowly die. He’s absolutely not in his right mind. So he thinks: Oh. oh.

All three of them.

It’s not unheard of. And Azriel is, of course, one of the absolute best males that Cassian knows. Honorable. Strong. Beautiful. Of course, they’ve worked this out- Nesta is the most unflinching, brutally honest person of all of them. Lucien she can be loud with- Azriel she can be quiet with- enough love to burn the world, why should she give it to just one person?

(a smaller, quieter, sadder part of him that isn’t zipping through thoughts at the speed of light can admit- if it was going to be an Illyrian, if that was even an option- why couldn’t it be him?

...of course, it would be handsome Azriel over Cassian)

It’s too easy to picture- dark Azriel, vibrant Lucien, moon glow on the blackest night Nesta.

But none of that matters. Because Nesta is sitting up, and glaring at Rhys and looking like a person again. Looking down and finding Cassian, there on the floor, with a tiny, savage smile. A hesitation- a second, that goes on and on, Nesta’s lovely mouth perked up, her eyes steady on his.

Alive, alive, alive. Cassians imagines- thinks he’s only imagining- that he can feel the steady beat of her heart alongside his.

But then of course eventually Nesta twists to sit up properly, already braiding away the rumpled cascade of her hair. (Cassian’s hands ache to help). Turning, to look at Lucien, grey-tinged and too still in bed.

Azriel answered without needing to be asked, looking at Nesta with weary eyes, Lucien’s limp hand pressed to his cheek. (Cassian’s heart is on fire). Explains that the poison is cleansed and now it will only take time, that Lucien had demanded to see her. The first expression on Azriel’s face in four days straight: a quirk of his full mouth, the ghost of a fond smile, telling Nesta Lucien tore his stitches to get to her.

(Cassian feels a little sick)

Stupid asshole, Nesta will grumble right back, but in that tone that says I love you.

But Nesta will turn away, straight to Cassian, to ask: My sisters?

(Cassian is Not Okay. Cassian’s self-esteem issues are literally going to cockblock him and despite not leaving in days for more than a few moments, Cassian is suddenly desperate to get out of this room. The city. His own skin)

Cassian can recognize trust when he sees it. Swallows. Tells her they’ve been here too, Morrigan just dragged them away to eat. They’re downstairs- he can get them- he can-

The youngest Archeron crashes through the door with Nesta’s own cataclysmic sense of timing, and throws herself at her sister. Elain, a step behind, walks around Cassian to curl up on Nesta’s other side, skirts tucked carefully around her.

They want to know what happened- and Rhysand, with his usual grace, choses this moment to interject that he would like to too.

(The Cauldron, downstairs, cannot be moved. Reacts to nothing, unaffected by physical strength or magical inquiry. It is, in the end, creepy as fuck. The sisters like it.)

(Not to mention that Nesta- who has always had presence, even as a mortal- whose mean laugh and beautiful face and tendency to yell at him is absolutely some kind of catnip to Rhysie- Nesta now feels like danger. Not the kind you only have to look hard at her to see, that strength that is who she is. Like a High Lord. Something old. Something powerful.)

So Nesta tells them. The King, the Castle of Bone, the Cauldron, who would be a prisoner no longer. Of the reckless, insane thing she’d done when it seemed like they were doomed- of what the Cauldron gave.

(Cassian is glad he didn’t leave. Cassian might never leave her side again, no matter how much it will hurt. Nesta drowned herself in eternity on purpose.)

She doesn’t allow them to congratulate, to question- though Feyre does joke about Nesta seizing the crown.

Nesta looks past them all, to Rhysand. Tells him what she’d told Cassian, the words he’d been holding behind his teeth like succor: She wasn’t the only sister. Rhysand.

Linnea, Amarantha, Clythia.

Nesta Archeron had been dragged over the Wall to protect her sisters- been transformed against her will into a monster and chosen that life, in the end, to stop war from marching to mortal lands to them.

Amarantha was a monster. Clythia a mistake. Linnea, long locked away, the discarded eldest, would come to sow vengeance against Prythian’s Vengeance. Against Nesta Archeron and whole continent that had borne and made her.

The war was still coming.

The medical team arrives to do one more round of treatment for Lucien. Nesta, uninterested now that she can resist in being poked and prodded ever, stumbles off to her actual bedroom, deathgrip on Cassian’s arm she will absolutely not admit is keeping her upright.

She puts herself together. Bathes. Finds clothes. Looks, this time, in the mirror. She looks the same- her face had never changed that much. The subtle glow of immortality, the stupid knifeblade ears. But it’s still her face: her mother’s lathe cheekbones, her father’s plush, lying mouth.

Nesta is a monster, but Nesta is Nesta.

She marches downstairs, and shuts herself in the study with Rhys. Crossed her arms. Stands there, spine straight, feet spread, like she’s going to battle.

Clenches her tattooed hand so hard it hurts.

She tells him, I want to make a deal. You wanted me in your Court, to fight in the war for the Night. I’ll swear fealty. I’ll be your fucking weapon- just me, not Lucien- if you promise that no matter what happens, no matter who comes, you protect my sisters. To the last fucking breath, Rhysand.

Rhys stands up. Brushes a hand over his face like he’s thinking and abruptly, laughs.

Nes, he’ll drawl to the feverpitch of her temper that he definitely has an unhealthy fondness of. You don’t owe me shit. You freed Prythian. You killed Hybern. You tamed the Cauldron.

Is Velaris suddenly not your home? It’s not a trap. Archeron, you’re one of us, whether you wanted it or not. That means they are too.

Nesta: I am a private contractor.

Rhys: You’re so involved you’re basically my Third alongside Mor. We would have gone with you.

And that, in the end, is what does it. Rhys is such a goddamn liar- but that doesn’t mean Nesta hasn’t learned when he’s telling the truth. And he is now.

They would have gone with her- to kill a King. To save her sisters. To enact bloody, reckless violence.

Nesta sits down, steals his teacup, and says: Fine.

The problem is clear at once: Rhysand thought Linnea was dead. Everyone thought Linnea was dead. Information from when she did live is unclear at best- Amarantha’s half-sister, where Clythia and her had been born to the same unfortunate mother.

Half-mad, denied acknowledgment from her father. Clythia and Amarantha were generals, woman who dealt in violence. Linnea, when she’d lived- when she’d been known- was an alchemist.

What the hell is alchemy? Magic that isn’t ours, Rhysand says darkly. Magic that is unnatural, not quite real. Not the power inside you- the power you can steal from the world.

It usually doesn’t work. It usually kills the fae involved eventually.

They need more information- they need Azriel, and no one is about to suggest he move a muscle until Lucien wakes back up.

There’s a family dinner, eaten sprawled around the sickroom. Elain, Nesta learns, has made quick work of befriending Morrigan. Feyre’s recklessness- the mirror of Nesta’s- has ensured, with fearless wonder, that she’s absolutely comfortable here.

(This Rhysand, who knew and was in awe of Nesta first, might like Feyre...but Nesta is his contemporary. The idea that her baby, mortal, youngest sister might also be doesn’t occur to him. Not yet, anyway. There being three Archeron’s at all remains overwhelming.)

Cassian offers to fly Elain and Feyre back to the House.

It’s Feyre, with the sort of straight forward confusion that can’t be feigned, who says, after Cassian has set them down and is walking into the warm halls with them: Aren’t you going back? Oh, is Nesta coming here?

Cassian’s heart: ground zero. Cassian’s brain: just far enough from the explosion to be burning, burning, burning.

Elain, who is a lot more like Nesta now that she isn’t frozen in worry, frowning just a little. Not warning- something worse, abject disappointment: We can get settled on our own. Nesta told me she’s sleeping at the townhouse tonight, in case Lucien wakes.

Feyre, yawning: Oh right, bye Cassian.

And then Cassian is left alone, the doors shut.

Let us return to Nesta: feet propped up on the blankets of Luciens bed, quietly drinking whiskey. Watching, with a pang in her chest she’ll ignore and ignore and ignore, while Azriel- now that it’s just them, Nesta, who Lucien had explained to Azriel like this: I’d die for her. She’s my...Cassian. I’m always going to choose her, and if we do this you can’t hate that. Nesta, who is family- is gently braiding the riot of bloodred hair off Lucien’s face.

She handed over the half-full glass when he was done, and Azriel tossed the whole thing back. Said, eventually, as they sat there watching Lucien breathe together: that’s the first time Cassian has left.

Nesta, leaning even further back in the chair: Oh?

Azriel, with humor, steady in his deep voice: Rhysand had to make him let go so the healers could check you. He’s been in this room for a week.

Nesta, who’s still looking at the braids. Nesta, who’d woke and known that Cassian would have made sure her sisters were okay: Will he ever say anything?

Az: Does he need to?

Nesta, with a scoff: For me, no. For himself, yes. And then, softer. Thank you. For taking care of him.

They both know she isn’t talking about Cassian.

Azriel will just nod. Say, like it’s nothing, the bare truth: He’s all the light, in the entire world.

Nesta hears again Cassian, tearing through words like they hurt to say: you’re the whole world.

Nesta, aloud: And much too stubborn to die.

This, unfortunately, the last two sentences, are all Cassian hears, frozen outside the door.

He walks away.

The next day, Lucien awake, Rhysand will call them all together and divide up what must be done. Lucien and Az: information. Morrigan: the darkbringers. Cassian and Nesta: the Legions.

It’s time for Nesta Archeron to go to Ilyria.

@more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @rhaenystargaryn @morrkrii @just-a-starcrossed-writer @clolikescloquetas @did-you-miss-me221 @caotica-e-quieta

#once again split this up for some semblance of brevity #poor baby self-worth issues Cassian #acting like an adorable tool #Rhys! and Nesta almost friends #very almost #it was always a story about the love between sisters #and it will be #to the bitter #bitter end

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commie-eschatology · 3 years ago

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Return to Redcliffe

particularly proud of this Solas + Trevelyan scene from “Return to Redcliffe” so gonna do some shameless self-promotion. Ao3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/33444538

When all her companions are asleep, Trevelyan leaves the Inquisition camp. She isn’t sure if she’ll come back. Someone is clearly following her, but she ignores that for now. The road back to Redcliffe stretches in front of her, but she hesitates. This is an extraordinary bad idea, she tells herself, but when has that ever stopped her? Lydia used to complain about her tendency to just act on desire alone. But Lydia is dead, she tells herself, you broke her head open with your staff until her brains spilled all over the floor. You killed the woman who raised you, only for the rebellion to sell themselves into slavery. ` In the woods, she stumbles upon a templar caravan. Very fortunate for her, very unfortunate for them. Their screams echo through the Ferelden forest; she imagines getting incinerated from inferno magic would hurt quite a bit, but it’s certainly not her problem. Trevelyan leaps onto the, now empty, wagon, and finds a crate of apples. She takes a few bites of one and monologues, “I rebel, therefore I am,” to the half eaten piece of fruit.

There’s groaning from underneath the wheels, and a jumble of words that vaguely sound like “what the fuck?” so she asks, “Sorry, are you still alive down there?” There’s no response, so in the interest of being thorough, she throws a fireball at the voice. The smell of burnt flesh follows, so she assumes it got the job done, but then again, Ferelden usually smells like that. Really not a terrible scent, she considers. Or perhaps she’s just gone mad.

Trevelyan looks at the Mark on her hand- staying with the Inquisition is the clever choice, she tells herself. Only she can close the rifts, after all. The rebels have been utterly defeated, the movement badly needs allies if it’s to survive. Still, her logic feels cold and hollow. The Venatori ships are already in Redcliffe harbor. She asks herself, how many will be shipped up to the Imperium in chains, in just the time it takes to travel between the Hinterlands and Haven?

Fire burns underneath the wagon. It’s always been fire for Trevelyan- burning the family manor during a childhood nightmare, cremating Lydia’s mangled corpse with her own spells, and, most recently, incinerating more templars than she can count. It’s the same fire that she could use to burn those Tevinter slave ships tonight- despite Fiona and Linnea’s betrayal, she has no doubt that at least a few of her people would join her.

“Do you want to keep staring at me from the woods then?” she asks the person shadowing her. Solas steps out from the shadows, clearly surprised at being discovered, but he tries not to let it show. He’s usually far more subtle, she doesn't doubt she could be more stealthy if he wanted, but he clearly believes everyone around him is an utter idiot. Fair enough, she supposes. He gives a slight smile, the kind that might say “well done.”

As with everyone, Solas projects emotions into the Fade- but his are more tightly moderated than any other mage she’s ever seen. Now though, Trevelyan sees a wave of complex feelings she can barely sort through, radiating from him: rage at the Tevinters, intense all-consuming fear of something she can’t sense, great sadness for something lost, but all controlled, and directed by conscious purpose.

“These woods are dangerous,” he says, characteristically naming the obvious, “and you have the only means of closing the rifts.” He regards her for a moment. “I apologize if I intruded. You have proven yourself a capable fighter, but I have found it is far too easy to make rash mistakes when one is alone.” His actual meaning is not lost on her: don’t be an idiot and run, is what he wants to say.

He adds, “And in my defense, you did just eviscerate an entire troop of men.” She expects him to ask her why, but he doesn’t; apparently needing no explanation for her small act of rebellion.

“They were templars,” she explains anyways, “most are awful. The others just look away when the Circle rapes happen. Honestly, I’ve always preferred the former.”

“I can’t disagree with you,” Solas says, “my few interactions with templars have been... unpleasant. Either they are accustomed to following the worst orders, as you have said, or they just enjoy inflicting pain, especially upon those without recourse.” There is clear contempt and disgust in his voice, it’s as if he’s speaking from experience.

“That’s why we rebelled,” she says, taking another bite of the apple, “also, I was hungry. Inquisition rations weren’t doing it.” Solas actually laughs. Trevelyan idly wonders when murder became so casual for her. Kill the woman who raised you, and everyone else becomes easy, she supposes.

There’s a short, but not awkward, silence between them. She knows exactly why he is here, to prevent her from defecting back to the rebels, but his presence is, surprisingly, not unwelcome. They haven’t had much time to talk like this; the conversations they’ve had have so far been in either the shadow of Haven’s Chantry, or on the road with Cassandra.

She motions to the adjacent seat on the wagon. To her surprise, he nods, and walks, or more accurately, struts over, butt wiggle and all. Like most mages, he usually makes himself seem as small as possible, scuttling rather than walking, but unlike the rest, it’s almost as if he has to consciously remind himself to do so.

Solas likes questions, she reminds herself, so ask one. He jumps up on the wagon, and she says, “do you like apples?”

Solas doesn’t even blink. “Apples were first domesticated in this part of the world.” How the fuck does he even know that, she wonders. “I saw a memory once, of a horde of human barbarians, desperately defending a part of these woods they held sacred, from the legions of the Imperium. When the barbarians were slain, the Tevinters marched forward, only to find a simple apple orchard, one which hundreds gave their lives to protect.” He takes one out of the crate, and takes a bite. “However, if you were asking about the taste- no, I detest apples.” He takes another bite. “This one in particular tastes sort of like burnt human flesh.”

“Dying for a lost cause. You really never miss an opportunity to make a point, do you?” she says, “also, how do you even know what burnt human flesh tastes like?”

Solas smiles mischievously. “I don’t like to waste words,” he says. The other point he is suspiciously quiet on. I don’t judge, Trevelyan thinks, you go eat as much flesh as you like, Solas.

His words are somewhat slurred, and she smells something in the air, besides the burning templars of course. She recognizes it as the unmistakable stench of peach whiskey, suspiciously similar to the bottle she had nicked from Dennet yesterday. Solas seems to notice and says, “Master Dennet had many such bottles wasting away on the shelf. He will not miss one, or two, I suppose.” He shrugs.

On the topic, she notices a small bottle of ale in one of the templar crates; the cork is stuck when she pulls on it, so she simply uses a bit of force magic to smash the top of the bottle off. It smells absolutely wretched, and tastes even worse, but she drinks it anyway. Solas watches her, possibly judging her, but he’s always hard to read. “Been a shit day,” she explains. Linnea said, go back to your templars. Fuck her. Tevinter apologist. Shockingly flat ass. Terrible kisser.

“Was today your first time in Redcliffe?” she asks. Solas chuckles softly to himself, apparently a joke only he understands.

“A long time ago, before your rebellion,” he says, “it’s changed since, of course. But I assume you’re asking my opinion on the rebel mages, rather than the settlement itself.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Despair sticks to most of the mages like gnats.” He’s right, during the retreat from the Free Marches, every morning some mages wouldn’t wake up, taken by Despair demons in their sleep. And the war has only gotten worse. She can’t even imagine. “Still, they endure. Their fight against oppression is admirable, and utterly hopeless.” , “Hopeless?” Trevelyan raises an eyebrow. She should be angry, but more than anything she feels exhausted. “You seem rather certain.”

“Of course I am.” he says, matter of fact. Trevelyan picked up some dalish during the rebellion; she’s not ignorant as to the meaning of his name. “In my journeys through the Fade, I have seen countless rebellions rise up, confident in the just nature of their cause, only to be crushed mercilessly. Righteousness, unfortunately, is no match against steel.” Good poetry. She’ll give him that.

“And, yet, Recliffe is still standing,” she says, “for the first time in a thousand years, in this part of the world, mages govern ourselves. No templars. No Chantry. We built that. Isn’t that freedom worth defending?” Trevelyan spent most of her life in the Circle. No price can be too great, she thinks.

“You forget you aren’t speaking to Cassandra or Varric. We do not disagree on the necessity of rebellion,” he smiles, just a bit, mostly to himself, “but, in order for a rebellion to win its immediate demands, as well has change what it is possible in the long term, something you once told me that you seek to do, they must do one thing.” He pauses for dramatic effect, and honestly it works. “They must win.”

“Even failed revolutions can teach lessons,” she says, the only dogma she’s ever needed to believe in, “no matter what Varric says, the mage rebellion didn’t manifest spontaneously.” She thinks of the thousand year struggle for freedom, and what feels like generations of the dead on her shoulders. In the distance, Trevelyan can just make out the flag of the Venatori, waving from the ramparts of Redcliffe. The ships are not far behind.

“No,” Solas says, suddenly melancholy, “or if they do, it is always the wrong lessons.” He’s silent for a long moment, staring into the ground. “I saw a memory once in the Fade. A man who sought to overthrow a tyrant. Then, a half-hearted assassination attempt, tailored for drama, instead of results. It of course failed. The man himself was burned alive, defiant at first, but when the flames reached his body, when his skin began to melt off, he screamed for mercy that never came.”

Trevelyan takes a long drink. Solas adds, eerily calm, “In the end, martyrdom is just melted flesh upon a wooden stake, and a name utterly forgotten.” She drains the rest of the bottle.

“I killed my mother,” she says, suddenly, without really meaning to, “when the Circle was annulled, I tried to give her the courtesy of a quick spell, but the tower wards blocked magic so…” she makes a motion with her staff “I, well, had improvise.”

“Your first murder?” he asks. She shakes her head. Definitely not. “If you want absolution, I’m not the person to give it.”

“Oh fuck no, I’m not Andrastian,” Trevelyan scoffs, and Solas chuckles softly. The Andrastians think they can solve all the world’s evils, all their many personal failings, through a song. It’s childish. Besides, Trevelyan would rather hold onto her sins for now- keep them close like a badge of honor. She looks down at the dead templars, corpses bathed in green light from her Mark.

“I don’t regret it,” she says, and she thinks she means it, “not if it served a purpose.” Trevelyan looks again towards Redcliffe, and thinks, everything I am, I owe to them. “In just the time it takes to travel back to Haven, how many will already be on the ships?”

“Likely a few dozen,” Solas answers, “there will be far more, thousands, if these Venatori are not defeated, which is a battle only the Inquisition has the resources to win. It is fortunate, then, that you have a position where you can speak on behalf of the rebel mages.”

The sun begins to rise, bathing the forest in dim orange light. “We should get back then ,” she forces herself to say, though every word is like a block of lead. Solas exhales in relief.

“One final thing,” she says as Solas moves to get up. She looks at her counterpart, studying him best she can, sensing his projections into the Fade. He’s unlike any other apostate she’s ever met, and there’s something about him she can’t quite put her finger on, much less vocalize. “You know quite a bit about rebellions,” she says.

“I have seen much in my travels,” he says, pausing as he considers his next words, “and you could say I had a dramatic youth.”

“One I’d be interested in hearing about,” she says, genuinely. “Especially if it involves more surprisingly melancholy stories about apple domestication.” Solas seems taken aback for a moment, but recovers quickly, chucking politely at her joke. He then smiles quietly to himself.

The two apostates return to the Inquisition camp, though Trevelyan keeps Redcliffe in her sight for as long as she can.

Ao3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/33444538

#dragon age #solas #f!trevelyan #tara trevelyan #mage trevelyan #mage rights #mage rebellion #enchanter lydia #redcliffe #hinterland #dragon age inquisition #in your heart shall burn

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pistolslinger · 3 years ago

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GENTLE. ( not accepting! )

@ingenicr said: [ FORT ] for our muses to build a pillow fort together.

“ IT’S BEEN A long time since i’ve done this, ” he’s not doing much to help now, to be fair; too afraid of getting in linnea’s way while she makes this saints damned pillow fort structurally sound by legal architectural laws, or something. he wouldn’t put it past her. if this fort didn’t have a functioning kitchen and bathroom in there, he’d be surprised.

“ like . . . last time i made one of these, i was . . . nine? oop, hold on, this part’s falling — ” jesper is quick to pinch the sheet where it’s drooping, though he’s tempted to let it fall on top of her head just to see if that could break her focus. “ yeah, nine. judging by the speed you’re fuckin’ going at, you haven’t ever stopped making pillow forts, ”

. . . hmn. he hasn’t heard her speak in a hot minute, actually. jesper lifts the end of the sheet up, and peers underneath, hoping he hasn’t lost linnea to a mass of pillows and blankets. “ what are y . . . woah. shit. this looks good. the fuck are WE gonna be doing with it? ”

#ingenicr #ANSWERED ... ‘ ic meme.#VERSE ... ‘ common ground to find your footing. ( unspecified. )#WAIT THIS IS CUTE

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goldandbluesmiles · 4 years ago

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life with you (it's glorious)

Summary: Snapshots of Bruce and Dick in this universe. Dick is about 13-14 here.

Ao3

Part 2 of Guardian Wolf

XXX

"Did you see the way I flipped?!" said Robin, nearly bouncing in excitement, "Did you?!"

"Yes, Robin," said Grandmaster, smile indulgent under the Gold Owl mask, "It was really good,"

"Thanks," said Robin, "Where are we going next?"

"We will be checking in with the new foster family, make sure they're treating their kids well,"

"But didn't you check them out already?" Robin asked, "Before you let the kids be placed with them,"

"Of course I did, Kiddo," he said, "But I like to check in again in a couple of months. Make sure everything's on track,"

It was one of the first things he had wanted to do. Fix the system that had so callously put his pup in danger but he knew it had to wait. Instead, the first thing he had done was to make the gangs in Crime Alley understand the new rules of trade. No forced human trafficking. Independent working girls were still around but there were shelters and such they would go to. The slew of Talons that patrolled the area made it so that no John stepped out of line. The arms dealing were only to be made between the gangs and definitely no selling to minors. Drugs were also not to ever be sold to minors and definitely no children inducted into gangs. No matter how convenient it was. It had been hard at first, but once they realized that Grandmaster was serious, the big names had quickly fallen in line.

Next had been the social services and the housing problem. Which was, unfortunately, taking longer. You couldn't scare a system into becoming right. You had to find people that were willing to do their jobs properly. Which was where the check-ins had come in. Many of his council thought it was excessive but he disagreed. Adult homelessness had many reasons, ones he was trying to combat but no child should have to live on the streets. And if he had to go to every new house to check, that was what he would do.

Once they got there, he let Robin knock on the door, entering carefully once Mrs. Chandler opened it.

"Hello-uh Grandmaster?" she murmured, seeming a bit nervous.

"Just call him, Mr. Owl!" said Robin, all smiles, "That's what I call him,"

The woman smiled down at the little boy, her shoulders relaxing a bit.

"And you are?" she asked

"Robin!" he beamed, "Like the bird!"

"Well, nice to meet you, Robin," she said, smiling as she closed the door behind them.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Chandler," said Robin, still bouncing on his feet.

"Please," she said, "Call me Sonoya. The children are in the main area watching a movie. It's just about their bedtime,"

Robin stayed by Grandmaster's side as they went deeper into the house. It was a small place but tidy. The first floor had a kitchen, a dining area, a washroom and a small sitting area where the children were sitting at the moment. The second floor held thee bedroom and two bathrooms. There was a crawl space underneath but not big enough to be considered a basement. All in all, it was a lovely home.

However, that wasn't what the Grandmaster was here to see. Houses could be very very nice but it didn't mean they were safe.

They entered the sitting area and found three Karlsen siblings sitting in front of the TV. They all turned toward him as he entered, the youngest ones nearly jumping in excitement.

"You really did come back," he shouted

"Johnny!" hissed the oldest boy- Roman- if Grandmaster was remembering correctly.

"Sorry," murmured Johnny, "I'm just excited to see Robin again,"

"I told you I would come," said Robin, "Now we can play the game. If it's okay with the parents,"

Grandmaster had no idea what they were talking about but Sonoya nodded her head with a smile.

Johnny grinned and dashed off to get something while Robin started chatting with the Karlsen sister, Linnea.

"We made some sharbat earlier," said Sonoya, "I could get you a glass,"

Grandmaster would have refused but it was becoming obvious that the woman was still uneasy. Maybe being able to do something familiar would help.

"I would love some," he said, doing his best to sound non-threatening. It was a little difficult with the voice modulator but Sonoya smiled softly, so maybe it wasn't a complete waste.

As she stood in the kitchen, which was open and in the line of sight of the sitting area, Grandmaster noticed that she kept checking on the children. At first, he thought, she might be nervous about him being there but as her glances only lingered on the children, it became obvious that she was checking out of instinct.

Sonoya came back with a bright pink drink and they both sat down on the couch to watch the children.

"Johnny made it in school," said Sonoya, "A couple of weeks ago. He said he met Robin a few nights ago and that he promised to play it with him next time they visited,"

Next time-

Oh.

"That little shit," he murmured, shaking his head

Sonoya titled her head nervously, "Did I say something?"

"Oh no, ma'am," he said, "It seems that Robin got into my schedule which he isn't supposed to do and also spent the last half an hour asking me 'where are we going next?' to throw me off,"

Sonoya chuckled, "Children are like that, I suppose. I remember my boys getting into everything while they were growing up. Of course, they're all the way at Met U now,"

Ah yes. Grandmaster remembered that Sonoya and her husband had raised a pair of twin boys before they decided to foster. Something about empty nest syndrome and realizing that they weren't ready to retire from child-rearing just yet. Grandmaster could understand to an extent. They had been young parents and still had a lot of energy and time.

He chatted with Sonoya some more, asking about her other children and how they were. As they talked, her husband, Dean Chandler came home from his evening shift. After introductions and greetings, the man joined them, just as welcoming as his wife.

The Grandmaster felt quite relieved from the visit. He had been right. Other than the usual jitters people got at meeting him, the couple seemed at ease. The children moved freely and Grandmaster was excellent at realizing when children were acting. None of them were acting, they were just happy. And if the growling was anything to go by-

Wait. Growling? There were no Alphas in the room. Except for...

He slowly turned his head toward the noise and for a moment forgot to be the Grandmaster. Because Bruce's baby was growling softly as he tussled on the floor with Roman. The little pup didn't even notice he was doing it.

His baby was growling.

Bruce supposed he should have expected it. His little Dickie was growing up and he would one day be Pack Alpha but it was different hearing his first growl, knowing that the sweet scents of childhood would soon be replaced by the Alpha spices.

As he felt the Chandlers watching him, Bruce tried to cool his expression back into indifference. They couldn't much all of his face but he had been truly shocked and let his composure slip. They would have seen that.

He found that it was too late however because Dean smiled at him gently.

"First time hearing it, huh?" he asked

"Yes," Bruce said, going back to watching Dick

"Se he really is yours?" asked Sonoya, "There have been rumours that he's your pup but no one is sure..."

There was really no point in denying it at this point.

"Yes," he said, voice hushed.

Dick was his, even if they had never talked about it. Even if he was still his ward in the eyes of the state.

Ever so slowly, Dean placed his hand on his gloved hand, gentle but firm.

"We will keep it to our selves," said the man, "You have our promise,"

His wife nodded and Bruce couldn't help the small smile from spreading across his face.

This was the reason he did this. This was why he still had hope for Gotham. Simple people that were just good for no other reason than just being good.

"Thank you," he told them, "Truly,"

They watched children in silence for the rest of the time. Once the clock struck 11:00, Bruce got up and beckoned Dick over.

"Time to go, Robin,"

"What?" Dick said, "It's not even midnight yet!"

"Robin,"

"Come on, Boss," he said, "It's not like it's a school night,"

"That might be so," said Bruce, "But I have a few more things to do-,"

Dick started to say something.

"-Which you are not allowed to accompany me to," finished Bruce, "Also, you are not the only one with a bedtime. I think we've taken advantage of Sonoya and Dean's hospitality long enough,"

"Oh," said Dick, looking at their hosts, "I didn't think of that. Sorry,"

"It's alright, Robin," said Sonoya, "I think Grandmaster is right and it might be time to say goodbye,"

Johnny fiercely hugged Dick when it was his turn.

"Will you come back?" he asked

Bruce could see the hesitation on Dick's face. On one hand, Dick had the deep-seated desire to make people happy, but Bruce had also raised him to be practical and honest.

His face shifted again as he made his decision.

"Probably not, Johnny," Dick told him

Johnny pouted but everyone else in the room seemed to sigh in relief. They all knew what that meant. They had passed his test.

"It just means there are other kids that need him to visit more," said Roman, ruffling his brother's hair, "Right, Robin?"

Dick nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah! Exactly!"

"Oh," said Johnny, "I guess that makes sense. Thanks for checking on us,"

"It was our pleasure," Bruce said, effectively bringing the conversation to a close.

The smiling couple walked them to the door and then shut it behind them with a soft thud. It was a good sound, the sound of a door guarding the start of a beautiful family.

Bruce knew a thing or two about that.

"Think Agent A will let me eat some cookies before bed?" asked Dick

Bruce smiled under his mask.

"Let's go find out,"

xxx

The words on the report were starting to bleed together.

God, Bruce really needed sleep- or maybe another coffee- no, definitely sleep. Alfred could kill him otherwise. He had probably hidden the coffee anyway.

He was still completing whether or not to continue trying to read when he heard feet running in the hall, getting louder as they neared their destination. The door was thrown open and a colourful little tornado entered in the form of Dick Grayson.

"Bruce! Bruce! Bruce! You'll never guess what happened!"

"Oh," said Bruce, completely disregarding the papers. Who needed reports when they had this adorable little baby.

"I growled!"

Bruce smiled. The pup had finally realized.

"Oh yeah?" asked Bruce, coming around the desk so he could pick the boy up. And even though the little Alpha had started to call himself too old for that sort of thing, he easily settled himself against Bruce's hip. It spoke to his excitement.

"Yeah! We were playfighting and then Riley tackled me to the ground and..."

Dick went on, explaining the story with animated hand gestures, almost as if he wished to have the whole thing come alive in front of them.

Bruce had thought about telling Dick when his first actual growl had been but now he thought against it. Dick's childish excitement was so wonderful to watch he couldn't bring himself to take it away from him.

"And then I made-Bruce are you listening!?"

The question was delivered with a sharp kick to the side. Bruce laughed and peppered him with tickly kisses, making Dick squirm and flail and wow, when had his little boy gotten so strong? Bruce used to be able to hold him for much longer.

"Come catch me, B!" Dick called out as he ran out of the room, laughter echoing behind him as he went transforming into his panther.

Bruce chuckled and gave chase, tiredness completely forgotten, the wolf hunting its prey. Dick had gotten much faster over the years while Bruce was still feeling slow after his session with Slade the day before, so the chase went longer than it usually would have. It gave him a good workout until he finally cornered him in the kitchen. The little Alpha surrendered on the floor while being mercilessly tickled by his guardian, both back to their human forms.

"Okay!," he breathed out, "Uncle! Uncle! I give up!"

Bruce grinned, "Wise choice, my little bird,"

Dick sat up and stuck his tongue out at him.

"Very mature," teased Bruce, "Now, can we hear your growl?"

Dick smiled and then screwed his face up in concentration. After a second, a shallow rumble rose from his chest. it was deeper than the one bruce had heard at the Chandler's the other night but still had a long way to go.

"So what do you think?" said Dick, looking at him expectantly

"I think it sounds just about right," reassured Bruce, "It'll probably get even deeper,"

"Yeah!" he said excitedly, "Do you think-"

Bruce felt a prickle at his neck right before somebody cleared their throat behind them.

"Is there a reason the two of you are on the floor of my kitchen?"

Alfred did not sound happy.

Dick instantly jumped up, face only showing guilt for a second before it shone with mischief.

"It's all Bruce's fault. He chased me around the manor!"

"Hey!" said Bruce, as he straightened up under Alfred's disapproving gaze, "Brat, this was your idea,"

"I don't remember that," Dick singsonged

"Oh you little-" Bruce was just about to grab his pup again but Alfred's pointed gaze stopped him.

"I think," said Alfred, "It is time for young Master Dick to change his clothes and then eat his after-school snack. Gowing boys need sustenance,"

"Yay!" cheered Dick and before either of the grownups could say anything, he was running out of the room, panther paws pounding against the floor.

Alfred sighed that there was fondness there, "That child's hyperactively is irritating yet loveable. I'm going to miss it once he grows up,"

Bruce pressed his lips together, "Yeah, me too,"

xxx

Bruce and Dick had a tradition of watching a movie together every Friday night, barring any other unexpected event. They would get popcorns, sugary drinks and other unhealthy snacks and watch whatever struck their fancy.

This time should have been like no other except Dick was quiet while he usually had a running commentary to go along with the scenes. There was nothing from him, not even a peep about the badly done fight scene.

About halfway through the movie, Dick finally spoke up, "Bruce, can I ask you something?"

Bruce paused the movie and turned his full attention to the pup. Dick was purposely looking away from Bruce, fiddling with the cushion as he gave off nervous energy.

A serious conversation then.

"What is it, sweetheart?" asked Bruce, making sure to keep his voice open and gentle.

"You know when you like someone, you find their scent really nice, like not parent-nice or friend-nice but like I-want-to-hold-your-hand-nice?"

Bruce nodded, having a feeling of where this was going, but he couldn't understand why Dick was so nervous about it.

"Yes, Dickie. I know,"

"Well, I'm supposed to feel like that about female omegas, right? Cause I'm a male Alpha?"

Ah. So that's why he was nervous. Poop baby. Maybe, putting aside The Talk until high school had been a bad idea. God knew schools, especially old-style ones like Gotham Academy, didn't touch on the attraction portion of it properly.

Well, no time for regrets. They were going to have the discussion now and Bruce would make sure they did it properly.

"Are you saying you don't feel like that about them? Maybe you feel like that about others?"

"No!" said Dick instantly, eyes wide, "I do feel like that about some of them! I do! I just-I also-"

"You also feel like that about others?" said Bruce, finishing the thought for him, "Maybe betas? Maybe even an Alpha?"

Dick looked at him with big blue eyes, a sliver of hope dancing there, "Is that okay? If I feel like that about people that aren't omegas?"

"Oh, sweetheart," murmured Bruce, "Come here. baby,"

Dick easily went to Bruce's waiting arms, his long gangly limbs making it a little difficult. Bruce was a large omega though, able to settle his pup against him eventually.

"Listen, Dickie. There are people in this world that have this notion of what proper attraction is and who you are supposed to like but I have never been one of those people. If someone makes you feel safe and makes you feel happy, then that's all that matters. Some male alphas only like omegas or specifically female omegas, some don't like omegas at all, it's all okay and if anyone tells you otherwise, they are very very wrong,"

Bruce said the last part with his eyes locked with Dickie's. He needed his baby to understand that there was nothing wrong with him, that he would always have his back even if there were people in the world that didn't.

"Do Selina and Talia make you happy, Bruce?"

And wow, okay, Bruce was not expecting that question, especially not accompanied by that intense look Dickie was giving him.

He's going to be a protective pack Alpha one day.

"Yes baby, they make me very happy,"

"Even if you don't see Talia a lot?" Dick asked

"Even if I don't see Talia a lot," he answered

"Okay," said Dick.

After that Dick got quiet and they sat like that, quietly enjoying each other's company. Dick curled himself closer to his chest, and Bruce found himself gently carding his fingers through his baby's hair. It was a peaceful moment, one Bruce knew would stay in his mental album for rainy days.

"Have you ever been with people that weren't female alphas?"

Bruce smiled at Dick's curiosity. The little pup was already reassured of his acceptance, now he was just fishing for information.

"Yes," answered Bruce, "as a matter of fact, I have,"

"Oh?"

"Hmm," continued Bruce, "I feel the same about male alphas as I do female ones and I dated a male beta through high school, even though a lot of people in our circles looked down on the relationship. People were even less accepting ten years ago,"

Dick titled his head, considering something.

"Was it Oliver?"

Bruce laughed and kissed the boy out of the sheer amount of affection he felt right then.

"Yes, my little detective," he told him, "It was Oliver,"

It wasn't a big shock that Dick had noticed. He and Oliver liked to subtly tease each other about that time of their life and Dick must have picked up on it.

"And Slade, have you and Slade ever had a relationship?"

"Yes, we have one," he admitted, "Nothing like I have with others, mind you, but it's special in its own way,"

This one was a little more surprising but understandable, Bruce had taught Dick to read body language and neither he nor Slade hid the fact that they admired each other.

"And Dinah, she's a female beta, right? Have you been with her?"

Okay, now that was just ridiculous.

"How do you know that, pup?" he asked, poking him in the side, "Did someone tell you?"

"Nah, I was just making connections,"

"Making connections, huh? What connections?"

"Your smile," Dick informed him, "You smile really big whenever Selina and Talia are around and you always get really soft smile when Slade is around. And then you have the smile when Oliver is around too like you're remembering something good but not the friend smiled you give uncle Clark or auntie Diana. And Dinah gets something like it too, but I wasn't sure about that,"

Bruce chuckled, amazed at Dick's observations but also a bit perturbed. He hadn't realized he had become that transparent. He was usually better at masking his reactions.

"Don't worry," continued Dick, almost as if he was reading Bruce's mind, "You only do it when you're alone with them and I can only tell cause you're my mama and I love you,"

And oh, Bruce's heart melted right through his ribcage to be replaced with a bundle of warmth. Nothing had ever made him feel as good listening to those words leave his little pup.

"I love you too, baby," said Bruce, voice coming out barely above a whisper, "One day, I hope you find someone or multiple someones that make you smile like that too,"

Dick smiled, "Me too but until then I'm gonna cuddle with you,"

"Always baby,"

Always.

xxx

Bruce's phone rang as he was leaving his last meeting of the day. He groaned once he saw the called ID.

This would either be really good or give him a really bad headache.

"What do you want, Queen?"

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"It is the right way to greet a menace,"

"Haha," said Oliver, "I have news,"

"You finally got the balls to ask Dinah out?"

"What-what even-oh fuck you, Bruce!"

Bruce's laughter stopped only seconds after Oliver's cursing did.

"I'm going to take that as a no,"

"Again, Fuck you," muttered Oliver, "Now I don't wanna give you the news,"

"I'm dying of the suspense," Bruce said dryly

"I'm adopting Roy,"

Bruce paused, just long enough to ensure he had heard right and then-

"Oh, finally,"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Everyone bet that you would ask out Dinah before you adopted Roy because of how stupid you were being but as an adoptee and an adopter, I was the only one that bet the opposite,"

"Again I say, what the fuck? And who is everyone, huh?" Oliver asked

"Everyone, Olles. Everyone,"

"Jesus," muttered Oliver, "We will have the rest of this conversation later. The reason I called is that I am having a small gathering for the adoption party. I'll probably have to do some gala for one of Roy's preferred charities but I want to do a small pool party with just friends,"

"I dunno, Olles," said Bruce, "You know how I feel about your superhero gatherings,"

Bruce had done a lot to fund the Justice League and help them with their development. He was even an honorary member but he ad no delusions. Bruce Wayne was Grandmaster and Grandmaster was no hero, definitely not up to par with the rest of the JL.

"Come on, Baby," pleaded Oliver, "It's only going to be a few of us. Clark and Diana already know who you are. You can wear your mask while Dick wears his sunglasses. It'll be great. And you know, Roy, Wally and Dick can get to know each other better. I'm sure Dick will love it,"

"That's emotional manipulation, Olles,"

"Is it working?"

Bruce sighed. Oh, What the hell.

"When is it happening?"

Oliver sounded way too smug as he answered.

"First Saturday after school ends for everybody,"

"Alright, we'll be there,"

"Great. I'll see you there, baby,"

"Hey-wait, Olles?"

"Yeah?"

"Congratulations,"

"Thanks, baby,"

When the day came, Bruce found the experience to be quite enjoyable. Sure, the mask was a bit annoying in the sun but Dick seemed to be having a better time with his sunglasses. Wally and Roy were good kids even if the latter was still adjusting and Bruce was glad Dick could have some more friends that understood his hidden life.

"They seem to get along," said Barry as they watched the boys splash each other in the pool.

"They do," he said

"You know," said the other omega, fully turning towards him, "If would be even better if they knew who he really was,"

Bruce smirked, "I know what you're doing and it's not going to work. I'm not telling you my identity,"

"Oh come on!" said Barry, "You can trust us and it would be good for Dick,"

"Agina, manipulation," said Bruce, "And what makes you think Wally doesn't already know?"

Barry's eyes widened. He looked at the boys playing and then back at Bruce.

"Wait...are you serious? He's never said anything!"

"You should be glad. He's very loyal," said Bruce

"Wow,"

They watched the boys until they got tired and decided that their next order of business would be to check out Roy's new gaming system.

"Dry off first, brats," Oliver called after them

Bruce didn't think they were going to listen.

"You know," said Barry, as they went to join the rest of the adults, "One of these days, I'm gonna convince you to take that off,"

Bruce smiled.

"I look forward to it, Allen,"

And surprisingly, he meant it.

xxx

Bruce woke up to an odd feeling in his chest, almost like something was clawing at his inside. It was the sort of feeling he would usually have if he was under attack but he was at home, in his bed, surrounded by one of the best security systems in the world.

He was safe.

So, why did he feel like this? Like something was going wrong? He was fine-

But maybe someone else wasn't. The pack under his roof wasn't big and Alfred could take care of himself, but Dick - he should check on Dick.

Bruce quickly made his way out of his room and just a door down from his bedroom. The door was cracked open, and Bruce could smell the faint scent of distress coming from the crack. He pushed the door open and found his baby sniffling under the covers.

Oh. Poor baby.

"Dickie?" he said softly as he got closer.

A dishevelled head poked out of the covers.

"Hey Bruce," Said Dick, wiping at his face, "'M sorry. Didn't mean to wake you,"

Bruce smiled and went to sit on the bed. He leaned over Dick so his arm was resting on the boy's other side, curling the boy close to him.

"Did you have a nightmare, Kiddo?" he asked

"Yeah," murmured Dick

"Wanna talk about it?"

Dick shook his head in the negative.

That was odd but Bruce could work with that.

"Why don't you come to my room?" suggested Bruce, gently stroking Dicks hair, "We can cuddle in my nest and I can sing you a lullaby,"

"No," said Dick to Bruce's surprise, 'That's okay,"

Dick loved cuddling in Bruce's nest, especially if he had had a nightmare. Why was he saying no? Come to think of it, why hadn't he come to his room as soon as he had woken up? Had Bruce upset him somehow?

"Baby, you always come to my room," he said, "Is there a reason you don't wanna go there now?"

Unintelligible murmuring.

"What was that, Dickie?"

"I'm grown up now," Dick muttered a little louder, "Should be fine with nightmares,"

Bruce's whole heart splintered into little pieces on the floor. As quickly as he could, Bruce tugged the boy into his lap, arranging him so he was curled up against his chest. Dick didn't even try to pull away, just sat there defeated.

"Dickie," said Bruce, "I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay?"

"Okay,"

"You are my pup, my life, my light, my baby," he said, "That means that you will never, and I mean never be too old to come to me for help, even if it is just as simple as a hug. I will always always be here for you, sweetheart,"

A beat of silence and then a soft-

"Okay,"

They would probably have to have another conversation about this but Bruce could feel the boy nodding off again so decided to table it for later. Instead, he bundled the boy up in his blanket and picked him up to take him back to his bed. Once they were there, Bruce arranged the blankets so they were making a nest around them. A protective barrier for his pup.

"Alright, Dick," said Bruce, settling himself in the middle with Dick curled into his chest, "Let's try that sleeping thing again,"

Dick yawned

"Okay, Bruce," he said, "Good night,"

"Good night, Chum,"

The next time Bruce woke up, the sun was just starting to peek out of the horizon and there was a medium-sized panther on his chest, the weight holding him in place.

Bruce wouldn't have it any other way.

xxx

Bruce discreetly watched Dick from the top of his newspaper. The boy had finished his breakfast in record time and was now excessively tapping his fingers while shifting around.

"Are you almost dine, B?" he asked for the third time, "I don't wanna be late,"

Bruce took a slow sip of his coffee.

"Dickie," he murmured, "I know you're nervous-"

"I'm not-"

"I know you're nervous but there's still an hour to your orientation and the most it has even taken to get to your school from here is half an hour. We will leave in ten minutes,"

Dick huffed and folded his arms, pouting adorably. Bruce didn't dare say it out loud, lest he fractures the frail teenage ego.

"It's okay to be nervous you know," he said instead, "It is the first day of high school,"

"I already said-"

Dick cut himself at his guardian's raised eyebrows.

"Okay, so I'm a little nervous," said Dick, frustration leaking into his voice, "It's so stupid. I'm not even going to a new school. Just a different building,"

Bruce smiled and held out an arm to the boy. Grumbling, Dick climbed down from his own stool and came to stand in the circle of Bruce's arms. He crushed the pup close and gently scented him, the space between them filling with calm-mother-love and grateful-happy-relaxed.

"It's your first day, baby," said Bruce, "Anything new comes with a little nervousness,"

"I know," muttered Dick, face still buried in Bruce's shoulder

"Also, if you need me to pick you up or something, you just need to text,"

Dick smiled, "I'm not a little kid anymore but thanks,"

"Anytime, Pup," said Bruce, chugging the last of his coffee, "Now let's go,"

He dropped off Dick at school as was the first-day tradition and then headed into WE. Around Gotham Academy's lunch break, he texted Dick to see how he was doing. Dick answered with a selfie that seemed to have a group of students doing some sort of first-day activity.

His puppy seemed happy.

"Everything alright?" asked Lucious from the other side of his desk.

Bruce smiled.

"Everything's great,"

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #a/b/o verse #batdad #batfamily

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daitranscripts · 4 years ago

Text

In Hushed Whispers Pt. 8

Finding the Throne Room

In Hushed Whispers Masterpost First: Negotiations Previous: Spymaster

The party takes off with Leliana in tow.

Dorian: What happened while we were away?

Leliana: Stop talking.

Dorian: I’m just asking for information.

Leliana: No. You’re talking to fill silence. Nothing happened that you want to hear.

The party continues up some stairs.

Dorian: We need to find Alexius. I’m sure he’ll be in the nicer part of the castle. If there is one.

The party enters another room with demons and a rift and the PC closes. There are more blood circles and inscriptions scrawled throughout the room. There is a gate that the party travels though, and two familiar mages stand on the docks.

Linnea: The magister needs more power for his rituals.

Talwyn: No! Don’t hurt me Linnea. You know me!

Linnea: There is no other way to cure the Blight. [This line is in the game script but almost never triggers?]

Talwyn screams as Linnea attacks him.

Talwyn: Ahhh! Maker, no!

Linnea: There is no Maker. There is only Him. Come forth and serve the Elder One!

Both Linnea and Talwyn both become abominations as Linnea summons demons. The party defeats them.

Party comments:

Sera: More frigging demons.

Iron Bull: Why does everything they do with magic have to be so creepy?

Vivienne: The weak always resort to blood magic in time.

Dorian: This is madness. Alexius can’t have wanted this.

The party enters the courtyard and is confronted with the sky glowing green and huge masses suspended in the air.

PC: The Breach! It’s…

Dorian: Everywhere.

Party comments:

Vivienne: Enjoy the view, my dears. This is the Elder One’s power.

Cassandra: The Elder One and his Venatori. They are the ones who opened the Breach.

Solas: The veil is shattered. There is no boundary between the world and the Fade.

Varric: Used to be, it was only dwarves who were afraid of the sky. Now, it’s just good sense.

Sera: Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look— shit, I looked.

Blackwall: I’ve forgotten what the sky was like before.

Iron Bull: Shit. You can fit a lot of demons though that thing.

The party continues up the stairs and encounters a rift. The PC closes it and heads up to another rift that they defeat and close as well. Massive red lyrium spires tower through the area. The party then enters the Upper Royal Wing.

(If Connor was met in Redcliffe):

Connor: I am not a child! I can resist you!

Demon: I am you.

Connor: No!

Connor kills himself and the demon vanishes.

Dialogue options:

General: We could have helped. [1]

General: Connor, no! [2]

General: Those bastards! [3]

1 - General: We could have helped. PC: Why did he do that? We could have helped him. Dorian: We will help him by making sure this never happens. [4]

2 - General: Connor, no! PC: Connor! Dorian: It was an act of courage. He knew there was no other way to resist. [4]

3 - General: Those bastards! PC: How can those bastards want a world like this? Dorian: They want it to be just like the world of old Tevinter. Comforting, isn’t it? [4]

4 - Scene continues.

Party comments:

Solas: What a terrible waste.

Vivienne: He chose death before falling to a demon. Very brave.

Dorian: He resisted that demon to the last.

The party continues.

Dorian: What became of Felix? Do you know?

Leliana: Yes, I know.

Dorian: And you’re not going to tell me?

Leliana: You’ll find out soon enough.

The party travels into the lower Royal Wing and enters a room where Venatori are fighting demons that are coming out of a rift. The party defeats them all.

Party comments:

Varric: You’ve got to love what Alexius has done with the place.

Sera: Is that the way to the main hall? It didn’t look like that before.

Blackwall: The main hall is that way. I’m sure that’s where Alexius is hiding.

Iron Bull: The main hall. Alexius is close.

Vivienne: We’ve almost reached the main hall. Alexius is close.

Solas: The magister’s grown paranoid. He’s barricaded himself in there and will not come out.

Cassandra: This way to the main hall. Alexius will likely be there.

The PC picks up a red lyrium shard off a corpse.

Dorian: What in Andraste’s name is that? Hold onto it. I want to look at it later.

The PC approaches a massive door that is locked at the end of the room. The lyrium shard seems to fit into place.

Dorian: Maker’s breath! Where did Alexius find this? How did he even move it here?

PC: Can we open it?

Dorian: Perhaps, but it looks quite strong. How desperate and paranoid must he be? His servants must have a way through. He has to eat. Let’s look around.

The PC takes off to find more shards and heads back into the Upper Royal Wing.

Dorian: How much damage did Alexius’s spell do?

Leliana: Rifts tore apart all of southern Thedas, starting here. But whether that’s his doing or the Breach, who can say?

The party continues on and finds the guard’s dining hall. There are numerous Venatori, marksmen, and a spellbinder.

Party comments (if entering through the main door):

Cassandra (whispering): There might be a better way in.

Sera: A little close, don’t you think?

Dorian: They’re right there, perhaps we should find another way in.

Party comments (if entering through the back door):

Cassandra: They haven’t seen us. We could take them by surprise.

Sera: Want to climb up and shoot them in the arse from above?

Dorian: They haven’t noticed us yet. Good opportunity to look for higher ground?

Party comments (during combat):

Cassandra: Kill the enchanter!

Sera: Kill the book guy!

Dorian: Get that enchanter!

Party comments (after combat):

Cassandra: Andraste have mercy on your souls. No one else will.

Sera: Aren’t you cute, in your little pool of guts?

Dorian: Sorry for interrupting your dinner.

The party enters into a chapel. The statue of Andraste is corrupted with red lyrium.

Party comments (upon entering):

Varric: To busy praying to their god to watch the entrance? You just can’t find good cultists these days.

Blackwall: They’re distracted. Worshipping their Elder One. Let’s take them down before they see us.

Dorian: Are they praying? Let’s try to take them by surprise.

Party comments (during combat):

Varric: Keep them off the stairs!

Blackwall: Cover the stairs!

Dorian: Block the stairs!

Party comments (after combat):

Varric: The Venatori severance package stinks.

Blackwall: Where’s your Elder One now?

Dorian: Doesn’t look like the Elder One is interested in saving his followers.

The party continues on through the ruined castle and red lyrium growths.

PC: What happened here?

Party comments:

Varric: Venatori decorating at it’s finest.

Cassandra: Find Alexius. That’s all that matters.

Dorian: Somebody had very questionable tastes.

The party moves on into the castle library where there are, surprise, more Venatori.

Party comments (upon entering):

Iron Bull: We can get that Vint with the book if we sneak up on him.

Vivienne: If you’re swift and quiet, you can kill that enchanter before he sees us.

Dorian: Try to take out that enchanter quickly.

Party comments (during combat):

Iron Bull: Block the stairs!

Vivienne: Wall off the stairs!

Dorian: Block them from coming up the stairs!

Party comments (after combat):

Iron Bull: Anybody mind if I take some souvenirs? Maybe just a couple of those pronged helmets?

Vivienne: Well! Shall we move on, darling?

Dorian: I could really go for some light reading…

The PC collects the fifth and final lyrium shard. [Anyone else wondering how the hell the inky is just picking this stuff up?]

Dorian: Let’s head back to the main hall. I think I know how we’ll open that door.

Next: Alexius (Again)

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #dai transcripts #in hushed whispers #ihw #long post #this whole post was basically just party banter #oh well lol

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dear-niko · 4 years ago

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Here I am, once again, bitching about an ex-boyfriend.

For the past 10 years or so, I’ve had such little self esteem that I allow boys to choose me, rather than me choosing them.

I’ve allowed boys to treat me like shit, tell me things are wrong with me, point out my insecurities, disregard my feelings, tell me I’m crazy, tell me I’m needy. I’ve allowed people to do that to me.

But that’s going to change today. I’m done letting nostalgia rule me. I’m done creating stories for people that don’t actually exist. I’m redefining the way I see the world, and it’s confusing and difficult, but I know the first step is some goddamn self respect.

I’m fucking DONE with feeling like I’m too much, when actually, I’m shrinking myself to please someone else.

I am done letting a man pick me. I’m picking my man.

I’m blocking jay. I’m done. I’m done. I’m done. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you

I know this is cruel, and unbecoming, and not who I really am as a person, but I’m so fucking mad right now. And I need to write this here so I don’t say it to him.

Jay you fucking asshole. You treat me like I’m a fucking annoying little sister. You only treasure me when you see me becoming someone else’s. You don’t give a fuck how I feel unless it’s convenient for you. You’re not helpful, you’re not useful, all you do is sit at your fucking computer day in and day out and eat shitty fucking foods for you. You’re going to die a sad, lonely person. I have tried for years to become the person that you tell me you would love. But the truth is you don’t know how to love anyone except yourself. And it’s sad, because I know you’re only that way because you were never shown love growing up. But it doesn’t have to be a part of my life anymore. I DONT WANT THIS. I want something bigger, something better, something sweeter and kinder and more considerate. You are a fucking mooch. You take and you take and you don’t give anything back. You’re so self centered and self absorbed that my feelings have never mattered to you.

Times Jay has royally fucked me:

- Valentines day 2020, told me he didn’t want to go on a date with me because he “didn’t want to give me the wrong impression” even though we’d been fucking FOR YEARs.

- Only wanted me back when I started dating Peter, made me choose between the two.

- Constantly flirting with me any time “we’re done” even though I told him not to and he knows it confuses me, and putting in the effort at the beginning and then shitting the bed when the chase is over.

- Told him I didn’t want to have sex when we were taking a break, he pressured me, I caved, I asked him to stay over, he said “not tonight”.

- When we were at the company party and had been broken up a month and went to the party together and he flirted with some girl all night long, let us fight over him, and then told me I was a bitch for calling her a bitch. Got in the uber and left with her. Didn’t call me to resolve things for 3 days.

- Fucked JEANIE. On multiple occasions while we were broken up.

- Texted Jeanie when he was mad at me to get back at me.

- Flirting with Aleina at 4AM and calling me crazy.

- Asking whether me and Nikole can go to Eureka to hang and him blowing us off. “I didn’t know how many people you had with you”. Fuck you.

- Texting Kaylee and Linnea and trying to make plans to hang out with them while we were still living together behind my back.

- Told Travis Snyder that he was breaking up with me long before he told me. Told all his boys actually.

- Broke up with me right before the Bahamas trip.

- Ruins Halloween for me EVERY FUCKING YEAR. Probably because he doesn’t wanna do a fucking couples costume you fucking ASSHOLE.

- Never wanted to officially date even when we’d been having sex.

- Never wanted to be facebook official.

- Never wanted to post a photo of us.

- Never helpful when I’m stressed.

- Didn’t want to stay up and hang out w/ me on my birthday. Didn’t help me clean up after my birthday party, didn’t offer.

- BLOCKED ME the night before his birthday because he didn’t want to talk on the phone.

- Fucking hung up on me last night for no fucking reason after I asked him to hang out and he said “it depends what you wanna do” and I said “you could just tell me if you didn’t wanna hang out” and he had a temper tantrum and fucking hung up on me.

- Never considerate about my anxiety. Never kind. Never helpful.

- Literally played video games the whole last 3 months we were together.

- Wouldn’t invite me to the mustard seed.

- Doesn’t tell his friends we’re together. Hides me.

- The whole fucking birthday situation where Linnea came on the boat and FUCK YOU JAY.

- Told me I was being dramatic after Ben’s girlfriend attacked me on the internet and I was having PTSD.

Do you want to force someone to hang out with you for the rest of your life?? Do you want someone to make you feel fucking crazy and needy??? Or do you want someone to look at you with heart eyes and be a partner to you??

Fuck Jay. He never wanted to build a life with you, he just wants to use you for his FUCKING EGO because he has nothing else going for him in life. Go ahead you long haired fuck

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someoneasgoodasyou · 5 years ago

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rules: tag 9 people you’d like to know better Tagged by @luciferloveschloe, hell yeah! top four ships (Just doing TV ships because if I expand to books I get all fighty in my brain about “ok do I love Lucifer/Chloe or Toby/Tybalt more???” and that feels bad.)

Lucifer/Chloe (Lucifer)

BA/Murdock (The A-Team)

Audrey/Nathan/Duke (Haven)

Aeryn/Crichton (Farscape)

The only one I haven’t written fic for is Farscape and that is because Farscape is like. From a fic-wanting perspective, fucking perfect for me. There’s nothing there for me to want, because it delivers almost before I know I want something. last song

Last song I actively listened to? “In a Week” by Hozier. Song that has been stuck in my head since FUCKING DECEMBER TWENTIETH TWO THOUSAND AND NINETEEN and thus I have technically been listening to it all the time? “Toss a Coin to your Witcher” from the fucking TV show on Netflix and LET ME TELL YOU I am going to go insane if I can’t get rid of it soon. It’s been A MONTH AND A HALF aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

last movie Ugh, Joker. I found it bleak and not in a good way. reading

(Doing books but really what I’m reading is all of @profdanglaisstuff’s fic lol and I am zooming through it.)

Despite what my goodreads profile says (I have temporarily abandoned all of the books on the Currently Reading list because I got a sudden incredibly strong hankering for scifi romance) I’m reading Gabriel’s Ghost by Linnea SInclair. I’m also working my way through Rock Your Plot because I’m going to finish my fucking book this year or die trying. what food are you craving right now? UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO I WAS CRAVING THE SHIT OUTTA CAKE RIGHT so like any sensible human being I got up and pulled out all the ingredients to make cake from scratch because it’s not like I have cake mix handy and whipped together the batter and didn’t have quite enough vanilla but that’s okay and put it in the oven and suddenly did not want cake anymore. It’s still baking and I’m *so mad* because I still gotta like get it out and let it cool and make buttercream frosting and frost it and I don’t want to :(

Shoulda made enchiladas instead.

Not tagging anyone because I have no idea who’s done this or not or if it’s even really going around or what. Consider yourself tagged if you want to be.

#about meme

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drowning-in-dennor · 5 years ago

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Lilies

It took them twenty years, but Maren and Linnea are finally getting what they’ve dreamed of.

Under the warm sunlight, her blood runs cold.

Hands trembling, Linnea fidgets with the lace on her collar. Her fingers pick at the intricate flowers expertly crocheted at her neckline, before hands slap them away.

“I spent two weeks making the collar of your dress,” Tille scolds, “if you unravel it because of your cold feet, I’ll toss you off a cliff.”

She continues to shake, feeling as though she’s freezing to death despite it being a beautiful summer day, and nearly falls over. In the nick of time, Linnea catches herself before she can fall face-first and snap the heels of her fancy new shoes.

Her bridesmaid grabs her arm, brow creased in worry. “You okay?”

“No, Tille, I’m not okay.” Linnea wrings the skirt of her gown nervously, staring out the window where Agata and Sula are setting up the garden. “I’m going to get married to the woman I’ve loved since I was four years old and I feel like I’m going to throw up and die at the same time.”

Tille pats her shoulder reassuringly and smiles sweetly. “You love Maren with every fibre of your being. Now you’ll get to finally exchange vows that’ll ensure you get to be with her for the rest of time. You’ll be fine, dear.” Linnea runs fingers through her hair. “I’ll be fine,” she repeats, “I’ll be fine.” “There we go.” She adjusts the flowers woven in her hair. “You’ll do great, Linn. And even if the wedding somehow gets messed up, Maren will love you all the same.” Tille looks out the window. “Where’s Otilia, by the way?” “She’ll be here in five minutes, I think.” “Oh, thank goodness,” Tille says, relieved, “now, you’re going to sit down, you’re going to stop tearing your dress apart and we’re going to wait until Otilia arrives, then we’re going to have the ceremony and you’ll go to sleep tonight a married woman.” Dropping down on a chair, Linnea bites her lips to keep herself from screaming herself hoarse. Tille, humming casually, sweeps out of Linnea’s bedroom and presumably downstairs, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Her engagement ring lies on her bedside table, leaving her hands bare until the afternoon. Down in the garden, Sula is dragging a small row of chairs onto the lush emerald grass, staggering around on her high heels. Agata is calling who Linnea assumes is their officiant, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground. Maren is nowhere to be seen. The door bangs open and Otilia runs in. “Oh my gosh, Linn, I’m so sorry, I just had a meeting, and Tsveta was being a little shit and - “ She composes herself, neatening the ribbons that hold her braids together. “I’m going to go get dressed.” While Otilia ducks behind Linnea’s bed and changes into her gown, Linnea gazes out the window again. The small makeshift altar has a vase of lilies on top, the immaculate white petals gleaming softly in the sunlight. The aisle is neatly lined by a soft arctic-blue carpet and the chairs polished to perfection. Linnea reminds herself to thank Sula for all the preparations after the wedding. “Aaand I’m done!” Adjusting the flowers in her hair, Otilia poses dramatically in her bridesmaid’s gown. “You better watch out, Linn, or Maren will want to have me instead of you.” Linnea rolls her eyes. “As if.” The door swings open again, and this time it’s Tille’s turn to walk in, wringing her hands. “Gata says they’re all ready downstairs.” Her heart begins to thump again. “The officiant’s down there?” “Yep.” “The quartet’s there too?” “They're five minutes away.” “Okay, then.” Ignoring how her knees almost buckle under her, Linnea gets up and follows her bridesmaids out of the bedroom, nearly tripping over on her way downstairs.

Once she reaches downstairs, Linnea's relieved about her decision to wear a calf-length gown instead of one that drags along the ground, stepping daintily onto the grass and approaching her sister and Agata. Most of the guests, friends from her high school and university days, are seated already, a few of them waving and grinning.

"About time." Sula crosses her arms, smiling despite herself, and smooths out her gown again. "For a moment I thought you'd be getting cold feet."

"Oh, of course not. Linn and Maren have been dating for, what? Ten years? If they back out of this, my career might as well be over."

Her eyes widen when she sees the officiant, neatly dressed and practically overflowing with pride. "Arthur? You're officiating the wedding today?"

Arthur grins, straightening his tie. "Of course! My two closest friends are getting married. There's no way I can just stand by and watch."

Otilia charges to tackle Arthur in a hug, laughing and nearly sending the two of them crashing onto the grass. "Artie, I was wondering where the hell you were! Dang, you're finally putting your job to good use!"

"Yes, yes." He pats Otilia's back and dusts off his tuxedo, looking rather nervous. "Well, I think I'll need to practice my lines again before Maren arrives."

Laughing quietly, Linnea says, "you seem more nervous than me." "Well, I'm the one officiating the wedding." "I'm the one getting married." Linnea clasps her hands together and watches as Agata picks up her phone, only mutters a few words in her call and runs off towards the house. "By the way, Tille, is Gata all right? She looks like she's about to have a stroke."

Tille giggles. "She was the one in charge of looking for all the people for this. Gata's probably just pissed that the quartet was supposed to arrive fifteen minutes ago to set up their instruments."

Mere minutes later, four musicians tramp into the backyard, each of them impeccably dressed. They snipe at each other, clearly in a sour mood, but set up quickly enough and begin tuning.

Linnea almost melts in relief.

"See, everything's turning out great!" Tille buttons up her suit jacket and stares at the house, jumping a little. "Aaand it's time."

When she follows Tille's gaze, Linnea sees Maren walking out, along Agata (now looking much calmer) and Myrthe. None of them pay any attention at her, and with a closer look Linnea realises that Maren is squeezing Myrthe's hands, face ghost-white with nerves, and Agata is whispering to her.

"Looks like you're not the only one who's nervous," Otilia whispers devilishly, while Maren and her bridesmaids make it to the altar and greet Arthur.

Remaining silent, Linnea clenches her fists as her fiancee takes her place by the altar, Agata and Myrthe standing behind her and looking far more confident. Tille and Otilia, each squeezing one of her hands reassuringly, lead her to the beginning of the aisle, and she steps delicately onto the pale carpet.

Then the quarter begins to play.

The tune is one Linnea's heard a million times, the familiar melody sweet and nostalgic. Taking a deep breath, she begins making her way down the aisle. She tries desperately to hide her nervous trembling, instead focusing her eyes on the altar.

When Maren catches her gaze, bright and beautiful, all her jitters melt away. Maren's sunny smile, one she's seen for nearly twenty years, has her smile back and raise her head up high.

And she finally reaches the altar.

Casting one last look at her, Arthur clears his throat and recites, "friends and family, we are gathered here on this lovely day to commemorate the union of two women deeply in love. Maren Dansdatter and Linnea Dahl, friends since the age of four and lovers since fourteen, will be brought together by their vows and their ring, and from today onward they, I am sure, will never separate."

He moves on to the address. "Maren, Linnea, before you exchange your vows, understand that they are not to be taken lightly."

Maren nods, and so does Linnea. Reciting her vows again in her head, Linnea takes a stuttering breath and tries to focus on Arthur's words.

"Will you, Linnea," Arthur says, voice unfathomably serious, "cherish Maren as your lawfully wedded wife, and love, protect and tend to her needs through all that happens?"

There is no need for hesitation. "I do," she replies firmly.

He turns to Maren next. "And Maren, do you promise to cherish Linnea as she will you, and offer her your love, trust and utmost respect as you two create your future?"

Her answer comes right after Arthur finishes. "Of course."

"In that case, I now call upon the two of you to exchange your sacred promises before everyone. These promises will shape your life together, and only your words can define how your lives will turn out. Now - " He gestures to Maren, beckoning for Sula to present her wedding ring to her - "Maren, if you may."

She takes a deep breath, before stepping forward and taking Linnea's hands. "With this ring," she proclaims, "I vow to change. Change to better myself, correct myself and help myself for your sake and your sake alone." Maren traces the back of Linnea's hand with her thumb, gentle and adoring. "For decades we have looked out for each other, and for decades more may we continue to love. Whatever pain befalls you, whether by my hand or by others', I will protect you from it. I promise to fight, to laugh and to smile alongside you for the rest of time."

Smiling, Arthur turns to Linnea next. "Your turn, Linnea."

She swallows the lump in her throat, feeling Maren slide her wedding ring on her fourth finger. It fits perfectly, a beautiful silver that gleams in the sunlight. And she vows, voice crystal-clear, "with this ring, I vow to give you all I have. Side by side, we've been together since we knew each other, and I swear to be your guidance, your shield and your ally in all that we go through." She picks up Maren's wedding ring from the cushion Sula is holding, taking Maren's hand and helping her put it on. "Let us put our past away and look to the future - a future, hopefully, spent together. I promise to love you, provide for you and care for you, for as long as we exist."

They lace their hands together, wedding rings clicking together, two bands of silver proclaiming their undying love to the world. Arthur, somehow managing to look even prouder than the two of them combined, announces, "I now declare you two married. And..." his serious façade drops for a moment and he looks down awkwardly. "You two may, er, kiss."

Laughter ripples through the guests.

He doesn't need to say it twice. Placing her other hand on Linnea's waist, Maren draws her in and presses their lips together. Linnea melts into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed and elation flowing through her every vein. She feels as though she is flying.

"Thank you." Arthur claps his hands when the two of them pull away from each other. "And with that, the ceremony has ended. Go in peace, the two of you, and I wish you all the best."

The guests explode into applause, and the music stops as everyone surges forwards to congratulate them. Tille and Otilia engulf her in a suffocating bear hug, laughing. "I told you you'd be fine!" Tille laughs, eyes bright. "Now look, you're happily married and everything's awesome!"

Face burning and heart still beating wildly, Linnea escapes her bridesmaids and makes her way toward Maren. "Hey," she says softly.

Pushing a very hysterical (and probably crying) Allison away, Maren grabs her hand and they run for the corner of the garden, behind an apple tree that must be about to bear fruit.

"So." Maren waves her hand, admiring the simple silver band on her fourth finger. "We did it."

"Yes, we did," Linnea repeats. She feels drunk with overwhelming joy. When Maren takes her hand and presses her lips to the back of it, that feeling, that soaring, amazing feeling, returns, and she can't help smiling.

"I love you so much." Grinning up at Linnea, eyes sparkling with tears she is too joyful to shed, Maren asks, "if we were to go back in time, tell our past selves that we're married, how do you think they'd react?"

She tilts her head, considering the question for a while before replying, "four-year-old me would be disgusted, probably. Fourteen-year-old me would most likely say, 'about time.'."

"Yeah, you're right." Maren laughs. "The me twenty years ago probably wouldn't believe that I married that beautiful, bookish girl I met in kindergarten. The me ten years ago probably wouldn't, either, not when we spent at least five years telling everyone we were 'friends'."

"Friends, huh?" It's Linnea's turn to lift up Maren's hand, ghosting her lips over her ring. "Well, I don't care if you call me your friend, your girlfriend or your wife. As long as I'm with you..." She raises her head and pulls her into a voracious kiss.

"...I'm happy."

#aph dennor #APH Denmark #APH Norway #nyotalia #nyo dennor #nyo denmark #nyo norway #aph fanfiction #my writing

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johnnymundano · 5 years ago

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Kolobos (AKA Haunted House) (1999)

Directed by Daniel Liatowitsch and David Todd Ocvirk

Screenplay by Nne Ebong, Daniel Liatowitsch and David Todd Ocvirk

Music by William Kidd

Country: United States

Running Time: 84 minutes

CAST

Amy Weber as Kyra

Donny Terranova as Tom

Nichole Pelerine as Erica

John Fairlie as Gary

Promise LaMarco as Tina

Ilia Volok as Faceless

Simms Thomas as Dr. Waldman

Todd Beadle as Dr. Jurgen

Mari Weiss as Lucille

Jonathan Rone as Carl

Linnea Quigley as Dorothy

Ivan Battee as Det. Byers

Kolobos may sound like the name of one of those aliens in The Simpsons but it’s actually a low budget horror movie from 1999. Like most of the characters in it, Kolobos is doomed. Unfortunately for the viewer it is a doomed attempt to fill 84 minutes with something interesting. Unfortunately for the characters involved Kolobos’ booby-trapped kitchen is more interesting than any of them. The mention of said killer kitchen allows me to segue seamlessly into a poorly thought through food metaphor. Like some particularly unsatisfactory cinematic sandwich, in Kolobos the less than fresh meat of the matter turns out to be mostly gristle, slapped between a prologue and epilogue, which if they were bread would be the cheap kind mostly composed of air and sugar. Right from the needlessly protracted start, the frantic desperation to reach a respectable running time infects every second of Kolobos’ meagre 84 minutes.

A mutilated young woman is run down on a rainy night-time street and finds herself in a hospital bed being asked questions by the police. Unfortunately no matter the question, the only answer she can give is – “Kolobos”, which is less than helpful (unless you are Greek). The movie flashbacks to a few days prior to a group of extroverted young adults meeting at a house to take part in an experimental film, which will record their interpersonal shenanigans over the next few months. Everything is fizzy pop fun, pizzas and video marathons until nightfall, when the house suddenly becomes a prison and booby traps start picking off the discombobulated goofballs. The line between life and death is starkly marked even as the line between reality and nightmare blurs. Unfortunately Kolobos remains intractably stranded on the wrong side of a third line, the line between good and bad.

The group are made up of loud jackasses, but that’s not really the problem; that’s exactly the kind of people who would be chosen for a reality nonsense show. See: every Reality TV show ever. Points to Kolobos there, but lose points, Kolobos, because it’s hard to root for anyone out of a group that resemble nothing more than the antic spirit of Matthew Lillard inhabiting a number of different masks. Kyra (Amy Weber) is the hypersensitive self-harmer on release from an institution, who draws sub-Clive Barker pictures and hallucinates violently unless she takes her special pills. Tom (Donny Terranova; fantastic surname, Donny) is a terrible stand-up comedian with terrible stand-up comedian’s hair, who has worse delivery than a comatose postman. Erica (Nichole Pelerine) is a terrible actress who dresses like a ‘90s Republican mother of two. Gary (John Fairlie) is a pretentious berk who mistakes overthinking things for intelligence. Tina (Promise LaMarco) is an alarmingly bubbly bundle of “fun” who is the most terrifying thing about Kolobos, as she is physically and temperamentally a dead ringer for someone my mate knocked about with back in the ‘90s. Admittedly, this reaction may not be shared by every viewer of Kolobos (unless she really got about). Linnea Quigley turns up for approximately 2 fully dressed minutes as a woman who can’t smile convincingly; Kolobos is definitely one for die-hard Linnea Quigley completists then.

With the characters essentially being nails-down-a-chalkboard it’s down to their deaths to lift the viewers’ spirits. And they are...okay. There’s a fair level of imagination and a keen desire to gross you out; unfortunately there’s not enough spondoolicks, so the impact depends a lot on your goodwill. There was some imagination at play so I was happy to roll with it. The most affecting sequences were probably the cheapest: some cool visuals of silhouettes distorted by cloth/glass and backlit by lurid colours. These were really creepy bits, but this is unsurprising as these were also really creepy bits when they were in in Suspiria (1977), which is where Kolobos got the idea. Kolobos does not come out of the unavoidable comparison well. Reflected glory is always booby trapped. If you say you knew Elvis, yes, people will pay you more attention, but only to ask about Elvis rather than you. Kolobos never learns this lesson and insists on actively prodding comparisons to other, better movies out of the viewer. Worse it insists on doing it to other, terrible movies and still comes off worst.

The initial group activity is to watch every movie in the series of slasher knock-offs starring terrible actress Erica. These are shoddiness incarnate, but they are supposed to be; the joke being that Kolobos, the horror movie they inhabit, is so much better. Or that would be the joke if the movie they inhabit wasn’t just as bad, if not worse. I was pining for a good slasher. A decent slasher, even. Or even a mediocre slasher. By the end of Kolobos even a shit slasher would have done. I doubt this was the desired effect. Unintentional upset may also occur among modern viewers, as the whole mental health aspect is treated with all the seriousness and tact you would expect of a ‘90s horror movie featuring a booby trapped kitchen. But if we’re going after unedifying representations of the mentally ill in horror movies, well, there’s a lot more famous movies that need to answer a few questions before we get to poor old Kolobos.

Kolobos is an optimistic stab at making a horror movie by people who have a vision but just don’t have enough money to get anywhere near realising it. Nor, weirdly, do they have enough script. Since that’s the cheap bit, maybe Kolobos’ true value is in demonstrating to nascent filmmakers that stinting on the script can prove as fatal to your dreams as a buzzsaw fired from a toaster.

#Kolobos #Haunted House #Movies #Horror #1999 #The 1990s #Daniel Liatowitsch #David Todd Ocvirk #Amy Weber #Donny Terranova #Linnea Quigley #United States

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droidmom · 6 years ago

Note

Eleonor from The good place, Wash from Terra Nova and Sam Carter

Ty!!

Eleanor (im not caught up so this is based on my fading memory of the previous seasons)

First impression: horrible person who i am still rooting for because she is sooo prettyy and entertaining Impression now: i would say "she's come so far" or "im so proud of her" but i have no idea how many redos have happened since i last watched kljsdhfkljsdf still proud tho Favorite moment: all of the gay shit she's said about tahani Idea for a story: i feel like after all the redos nothing i can think of hasnt already been done so! AU where eleanor and tahani meet instead of dying and they cant stand each other but the gay (aaaand possibly eleanor realizing tahani is rich) keeps them in each other's lives long enough to develop a littleUnpopular opinion: i dont rly care about eleanor/chidi tbh. like it's important representation and it's v well written, it just isn't my style. Favorite relationship: either the brotp of her and michael or her/tahani Favorite headcanon: nothing's coming to mind atm

Our Lord and Savior Lt. Commander Alicia Washington

First impression: "i don't know where guzman went but WOW i am not complaining that this strong beautiful goth gorl who just ate a goddamn insect replaced him"Impression now: absolutely amazing and beautiful and the whole colony would fall apart without her and that's why we couldnt have a season 2. the ppl behind this show really really did not know what they had nor did they deserve her. Favorite moment: !! when she fought off a bunch of sixers on her own. simone kessell did ((most)) of her own stunts and it was sO so cool. and of course it resulted in the "still doing taylor's dirty work?" confrontation with mira which sparked so much gay angst headcanons. really that whole episode was great?? i love that she still had her wounds from the fight later on. like we've seen their med tech being advanced enough to heal cuts in an instant but she really just let it be. between that and her hair being down and her being so good with leah and just !! it was so nice in the earlier episodes when wash actually got scenes lol :/Idea for a story: that episode where mira and taylor keep imprisoning each other out in the jungle before realizing they have to work together to survive?? that but mira + wash. Unpopular opinion: im not super into wash/taylor. i see where it comes from but i love them more as a brotp than anything i think? Favorite relationship: threeway tie (lol) for wash/ayani, wash/mira, and wash/being alive. Favorite headcanon: she lowkey adopts a bunch of kids by accident. like she already has leah clinging to her, and with leah comes her brother sam. then if mira's daughter sienna ever makes it to tn (because i just rly need the sixers to reintegrate and wash/mira to reunite and rebuild the colony) there's that. plus the security team is basically a bunch of kids who look up to her.

Sam Carter

First impression: "i started this show so i could get to claudia black's episodes at some point but i think im a little in love with this adorable blonde ray of sunshine" Impression now: ADORABLE BLONDE RAY OF SUNSHINE Favorite moment: is it cheating if i say the blooper where amanda calls rda "mr. mac-useless"? if so, then the time she was wearing a leather jacket and yelled in maybourne's face.Idea for a story: really i just want her and that pretty russian scientist dr. markov to have more missions together. Unpopular opinion: i feel bad all my unpopular opinions are about ships for this kljsdhfsdkljf but uhhh while i see the chemistry for sam/jack, it isn't something i personally care for. also! i wanna mention linnea Somewhere in here so like... lowkey i ship them (while acknowledging it would be an absolute mess, of course). it's just interesting imo and me shipping both that and sam/ke'ra is literally how i knew ke'ra was linnea before the reveal. really if this show had more girls to ship sam with i probablyyy wouldnt need to be like this and yet, Favorite relationship: sam/janet kfhkljsk. i also rly like her brotp with daniel early on though. Favorite headcanon: so between her dead mom and (previously) shitty dad, i just rly want catherine langford to have kinda sorta taken over as a maternal figure for her back when they wouldve been able to work together more.

#sg1 tag #tn tag #long post #leatvshows

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legojacques · 7 years ago

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Kent starts taking a photography class at a community college and ends up meeting a really cute guy there. The cute guy doesn’t know that Kent is a famous hockey player, and over time, starts to think that Kent is part of the mob...

(This was an idea on the Parse Discord that got really long. I want to come back to clean it up and redo it as an actual fic (or ficlet) at some point, but for now, enjoy the ideas that came out of the chat.) (@overheardattheaces)

Under a cut because it’s hella long

Lego: "I started taking a photography class at the community college so I could take really nice pictures of Kit." "Okay...." "But then I met this guy there and he doesn't know who I am and now I'm in too deep." "Why?" "He knows I like hockey. He wants to take me on a date... to a hockey game." "Oh shit." "He know nothing about hockey." "That's really cute." "I know." "You're really screwed, Parse." "I know that too."

Linnea: kent's saved by the fact it's the unlv team and he doesn't have a game that night. they sit towards the back and kent keeps his hat pulled down low

abigail: but what if this guy tries to take kent to an aces game

Tony: i have no idea whats happening but i want the shenanigans that come from "i cant go" "oh, why?" "uh. i have. a thing that night"

Lego: Kent: i work a lot Cute Guy: that's a lot of really weird hours and travelling. (OH SHIT HE'S A HIT MAN)

Tony: knlkdfsnkgjsI WANT THOSE MISUNDERSTANDINGS MORE Cute guy: Oh don't worry I understand. (FUCK I DIDNT THINK HITMEN WERE THIS CUTE)

Lego: Cute guy: I'M LITERALLY DATING AN ASSASSIN BUT I DON'T CARE BECAUSE THE DICK IS TOO GOOD

Linnea: kent's in vegas. he has lots of money. this kid seriously thinks he's stumbled into dating someone in a mafia ring.

Lego: Cute guy: wow how'd you afford this house? kent: oh you know, investments and stuff cute guy: DEFINITELY MOB MONEY

Linnea: cute guy: bites fist investments???????????????????

taggianto: Look it's Vegas. Either he's with the mob or he's a hooker.

Linnea: his friends are like: you're the one who got yourself into this. if you end up buried in the mojave that's your fault.

abigail: im living for this

taggianto: Maybe he's a hooker FOR the mafia

Lego: oh shit. he's the femme fatale. seduce em and then kill em

Linnea: femme fatale kent omg this kid has a new story for his friends every week

Tony: i mean depending on what Kent's into if the cute guy finds something in Kent's closet--

Linnea: and they've seen, like, his fancy car and his shiny watch and the way he always wears sunglasses and hats low so he won't be recognized and he's clearly built..... friend1: you can NEVER break up with him. friend2: and pray he never wants to break up with you. friend3: it was nice knowing ya....

Tony: hfdlfgg why do none of them READ A PAPER

Linnea: they're college kids?

allison (believesinponds): Vegas isn’t a hockey town. Lol

Lego: friend: if they find a body in the dump we'll know it was you

Tony: im crying

Linnea: cute guy: we went to this really vip club over the weekend and they just....waved him right in????

Lego: kent's got access to all sorts of exclusive and hot clubs in town

Linnea: friend: oh shit, he must be connected to the family that runs it

Lego: friend: i heard that some mobsters do all their torturing in the back because the loud music covers up their screams friend: he took you there as a warning

Linnea: kent: so i was watching the news and they said these meteors are supposed to hit next week and be super visible if you can get away from city lights. wanna hit the desert? cute guy: that's it. he's done with me and i'm going to become scorpion food and my mom won't even get to bury me

Lego: lol. imagine the car ride out there. kent: (i'm being so romantic)

Tony: its so t e n s e on one side

Tony: but only ONE SIDE

Lego: cute guy: IM GOING TO DIE

Linnea: kent just wants a romantic date with the perseids

Tony: Kent keeps looking over and smiling

Linnea: they get to the spot and kent reaches behind the seats. cute guy flinches cuz this is it. he's gonna die. but it's a blanket kent: let's get out. get a better view. cute guy: he doesn't want blood in the car. of course.

Lego: cute guy: the blanket is for bundling up my body because it's easier to clean up

Linnea: cute guy: i've seen this csi before

Lego: cute guy: there's no signal on my cell phone

Tony: when you're already at stage 5 of grief, acceptance

Linnea: cute guy: if i at least get one more good lay, it'll be worth it, right?

Lego: cute guy: best dick ive ever had. at least i'll die happy cute guy: maybe cute guy: i hope he chooses something quick and painless

Tony: i mean sometimes, the only way to go, is during Relations™

Lego: so cute guy survives a tense night in the desert. he feels like he passed some kind of test but he's not sure

Linnea: but how does he learn the truth?

Lego: hmmmm....he doesn't.lol, just kidding

Linnea: and how hard does kent laugh when he finds out what cute guy thought? also looool when cg sees scraps

Lego: looooool. one day cute guy bumps into kent and scraps at a restaurant cute guy: okay we at least have it narrowed down to russian mafia

Linnea: scraps is canadian lol

taggianto: Mafia scraaaaaaps

Linnea: lol it's post-game so they're in suits

Lego: Another time cute guy sees Kent with a bunch his teammates. They look like his bodyguards

Tony: I mean is Kent the smallest guy on the Aces You see all these guys in suits that are 6’0-6’5 surrounding this 5’10” dude and literally all you can do is be like what the fuck Anyone with any context is like “oh there’s the Aces” but if you know zero about hockey you’re just like “the mob is here”

Lego: Cute guy: on one hand, that's terrifying because they can break every bone in my body but on the other hand.... Kent looks so good

Linnea: friend: like, at least they won't break every bone in your body without his permission?

Lego: Cute guy: part of me is ready to be mob wife Cute guy: the other part of me is screaming run

Linnea: friend: ignore it. you can't run faster than the mob.

Lego: Cute guy: mob wives always look good though. Like I'm going to need to step up my fashion game. I always wear sweatpants.

Tony: I love that his concern now is his fashion game

Lego: He's seen Kent in his expensive suits. And even Kent's sweatpants are expensive.

gizelle from hell: Kent wears vetements nah jk he probably just has a lot of adidas and rebook gear

nerdflighter: somebody needs to continue this is absolute gold no wait I'll tell you how this guy finds out. this guy's name is,,,,,David. it's David. David eventually realises that Kent loves him for real and is not going to kill him in desert or something like that. and he loves Kent back so when David proposes, his proposal goes something like: "Kent Parson, I've loved you for almost 4 years now. you have an amazing dick, and you're the most handsome, generous, gentle, person I've ever met. even if you're in the mafia, I'd still like to marry you. would you make me the happ–” "you think I'm in the MOB?" [record scratch sound]

abigail: IT GOES ON UNTIL HE PROPOSES I'M DYING

nerdflighter: ME TOO. they have a long sit down conversation about how DAVID THOUGHT KENT WAS IN THE MAFIA. FOR 4 YEARS. WHILE DATING HIM

abigail: oh also, when this guy and his friend's see kent after a rough game, with a swollen eye and cut lip, they are downright terrified, more so than they were before

nerdflighter: David's friend Eliza, drinking Starbucks: could've been worse. for a while there he thought you were a femme fatale

restfulinsomniac: They run into Tater at a bar and David is like “oh my god there’s a scary Russian guy glaring at us this is how it ends I’m just gonna get killed in the crossfire”

nerdflighter: Kent, staring at Eliza: have I seen you before? Eliza is an intern in the PR department and the biggest troll ever

Lego: kent: hey so some the guys wanted to meet you . [nervous laughter] cute guy: oh my god they go to a low key restaurant where everyone is shifty and watching what they say because they've been warned by kent to not reveal his identity cute guy: definitely mafia

abigail: omg what if a fan approaches them when they're out like that

Lego: kent: [panics] [whispers to a teammate] can you take care of it? teammate: distracts the fan but what cute guy sees is the teammate leading the fan out of view somewhere to be "taken care of" at some point, cute guy overhears a conversation between kent and one of his friends kent: i need to tell him the truth. i feel bad lying to him. cute guy: [reveals himself] cute guy: it's okay, kent, i already know kent: omg you do????? how did you figure it out? cute guy: it was so obvious. the money. the hours. the bruising on your knuckles cute guy: i love you anyways kent: aw that's a relief kent now thinks cute guy knows he's a hockey player. cute guy continues on thinking kent is a mobster

nerdflighter: LMAOO. this is exactly why David was still under the impression that Kent is mobster by the time he proposes (does Kent think David has trust issues/an abusive ex bf because of the way he behaves around Kent's teammates?)

Lego: i mean.... if i had to meet a team of huge, hulking, famous hockey players, i'd act shifty af too. also, that's a lot of people to meet in one sitting

Lego: cute guy: so that scraps guy is hit man, right? kent: (aw he's so cute when tries to talk hockey. i think he means defenseman) kent: yes dear

Linnea: kent: he's an enforcer, yeah, but a total sweetheart behind the mask.

Lego: kent: yeah he's a bit of a goon and he hits hard but he's always there when you need him

nerdflighter: scraps, a gentle boi, trying to make nice with David: so, I heard you're in college? David, screaming internally, heard from whom? your "friends"?: yeah, I study microbiology

Linnea: scraps: is that, like? the csi stuff? with blood? david: screaming internally, i promise i will not end up on the opposite side of the law from you no, it's bacteria, viruses, prions, cells. biology on a microscopic level. scraps: are you gonna be a doctor, then? if you do, i'm sure we can find you an opening. david: aaaaaaaaand now i'm going to be a mob wife and a mob doctor x.x

Lego: kent comes home one night with blood all over his clothes (from a bloody nose) cute guy: it's okay. i've been preparing myself for something like this. i know how to remove blood from clothes kent: oh wow that's handy

Linnea: cute guy: or is it better to burn them?

Tony: kent: Do not burn this its Versace i know exactly nothing about fashion ignore me

Lego: cute guy: i also know how clean car interiors too kent: i would never get blood in my car

Lego: cute guy to his friends: it's like he's a really hot james bond villian. he's even got the cat and everything

Lego: cute guy: did you ever have a different vision for yourself? like did you ever imagine you'd ever wind up as a, you know, for a living? kent: i mean, not really. it's what i've dreamed about my whole life cute guy: (WHO DREAMS ABOUT BEING IN THE MAFIA AS A KID???)

abigail: OMG. ON A SADDER NOTE. but what if kent tries to talk about jack to cute guy and he brings up the OD and cute guy is just like "yep his mafia friends couldn't handle this life" or "what if it was planned,,, is someone coming after kenny in that same way"

Lego: kent mentions "bad bob" a couple of times and cute guy thinks that he must be the godfather, mob boss guy. it's a very intimidating name

#kent parson #headcanon #lego writing #mine #and several other wonderful people #parsepositive

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