#looking through old post and i still like the idea of anders and justice being able to chat back and forth

[crows-of-buckets]

The gang is standing around watching Hawke loot random pants again and justice makes some shitty joke about the scheets and that is the first time anyone from Kirkwall sees anders laugh so hard he can't breathe. The team is very concerned that he is currently laughing at nothing (at least from their pov)

I think dragon age two would have been infinitely better if anders and justice could communicate with each other. "But crow their inability to communicate with one another further conveys that they are no longer two separate entities -" I DONT CARE I want to watch anders have a one sided argument with justice and it is very clear he's loosing. Dead silent and then Anders starts giggling cause justice said something stupid. I know that the grief in loosing a friend to save them was intentional however I think it is funnier if justice has running commentary in Anders's brain

[thedinanshiral]

Magic, mages and more

If you’ve played the Dragon Age series you’ve probably noticed some differences here and there. Origins was heavy on tactics, something Inquisition lacks considerably, and Dragon Age 2 allowed for blood magic, which Origins had little of and Inquisition barely mentions. All lore aside, we can experience magic in Thedas more closely through our mage companions in each game ( or your character if you chose the mage class).

First, i’ll discuss briefly how magic spells have changed throughout the games, then i’ll analyse a mage pattern and how it broke. And finally i’ll entertain some future over the top possibilities.  

Origins and DA2 were designed primarily to be played on PC, and we see this more clearly on Origins through its tactics-heavy gameplay. Spells in Origins are more suitable to a carefully planned combat strategy, with passive and status-inducing spells presented in a variety that didn’t survive into the following games. DA2 also allows for tactics but the combat system is more dynamic, it’s not necessary to pause/unpause 5 times per second, one can do battles in real time and as a result spells were considerably reduced, prioritizing active/offensive spells, and almost entirely eliminating status-inducing and supportive spells.

Unlike its predecessors, Inquisition was way more console-friendly and all but eliminated the tactics system from Origins; now combat was fast, direct, with a tactical screen capable of basic commands and overall limited, and spell trees were reduced to the bare minimum, with elemental attacks, and very few defensive spells, having completely eliminated healing.

So, in short, summonings disappeared after Origins, as did most of the Creation, Spirit and Entropy trees. By Inquisition, none of the glyphs or hexes survived. Some spells icons from DA2 reappear in Inquisition, but most from Origins never made it past it, and some spells changed name or spell tree between games. There’s a gradual simplification of spell trees from one game to the next, adjusting combat to a more straightforward style, with less support or status-inducing spells and an increasing concentration of active spells with enhancing passive ones. On the other hand, Healing all but disappeared from Inquisition spells, “spirit healer” not even surviving as a specialization, with the only healing spell available being Revival which as the name implies you can only use on an already fallen party member. Surprisingly, Dispel made it through all three games staying in the same spell tree, Spirit, and elemental spells remained the same across all games, with minor changes.

Now let’s take a look at all our main mage companions.

In Origins we have Morrigan (apostate, shapeshifter), and Wynne (circle mage, spirit healer, vessel for spirit of Faith). In DA2 we have Merrill (dalish, blood mage), and Anders (former circle mage turned apostate, healer, vessel for spirit of Justice/Vengeance). In inquisition however we get three mages: Dorian (Tevinter pariah, pyromancer, necromancer), Vivienne (circle loyalist, icemancer, knight-enchanter) and Solas (apostate, electromancer,rift mage).

Just in case the pattern isn’t clear enough..In both games we get an apostate and formally educated and trained mage, a mage who lived in the wild and a mage who lived in cities, a mage who dwells in obscure or forbidden magic used for offense and a mage dedicated primarily to healing and support, a mage who deals in dangerous magic but remains their own and a mage who despite dealing in safer magic harbours a spirit within (by Chantry dogma, an abomination).

This pattern is broken in Inquisition; while we still get an apostate and a circle mage, we also get a mage that while not from the circle still isn’s technically an apostate (Dorian), we also get no healer but we do get a mage that specializes in obscure magic (necromancy), and we don’t really get a mage that has lived in the wild but one who’s lived outside of Thedosian society (Solas, being who he is and having recently woken up from the longest nap ever). And instead of getting a mage sharing their body with a spirit of the Fade, we get an ancient elf who secretely is an elvhen god and the creator of the Veil. Solas breaks the pattern (as well as everything else, apparently).  

I’ll focus on Inquisition from now on and leave Solas for last. 

Auto-level evidences the default element of choice of each mage. Solas is an electromancer, Dorian is a pyromancer, and Vivienne is an icemancer. Dorian preferring fire makes sense as a Tevinter who constantly complains the South is cold, implying his homeland has a warmer weather he sorely misses. Vivienne choosing cold spells goes perfectly with her personality, presenting herself as an ice queen.

Here is where it begins to get a bit tricky: Specializations.

Dorian’s is Necromancy, which would make a lot of sense...if he was Nevarran. Being a Tevinter it’d make more sense for him to be a Blood Mage. But Origins and particularly DA2 already exposed blood magic, painted it in all its evil colours, made it pretty clear it’s the wrong kind of magic to use for all the dangers it entails. By the time we get Inquisition, we face an actual Magister Siderial and Tevinter is painted as this degenerate empire full of evil blood mages, so getting a blood mage specialization was out of the table. Therefore our Tevinter ally got the next most questionable line of magic, necromancy. Because nothing says “almost evil” as raising up the death to fight for you and draining lifeforce from your enemies.

Next we have Vivienne who specialises as a Knight-Enchanter (KE). She’s a Circle mage, a Loyalist at that, and KE is a path reserved for Circle mages allowed to engage in combat when requested. But we learn from Solas that the powers used by Knight-Enchanters have their origin in the Arcane Warriors of the ancient elves. Vivienne has no known connection to anything elven, so her being able to become a KE is just another example of the cultural appropriation of elven elements and knowledge done by humans and the Chantry. 

None of the specializations are entirely new, as already stated KE takes from Arcane Warriors, much of the Necromancer tree comes from the previous games’ Entropy trees, and the Primal and Force trees lend some spells to the supposedly brand new Rift tree. 

Then there’s Solas, who is the default Rift Mage once specializations become available. The Rift spell tree is a post-Breach occurrence, as it was developed by mages studying the Breach and resulting rifts that appeared all over Thedas. It should have unique spells yet it recycles old ones: Stonefist no longer deals physical damage as it did in Origins and DA2 when it was in the Primal tree and meant hurling rocks at the enemy, but spirit damage as it now involves summoning a boulder directly from the Fade. Similarly, DA2’s Force spell Fist of the Maker and subsequent upgrades, Maker’s Hammer and Maker’s Fury, described as “slamming enemies into the ground” with some invisible force became Veilstrike in the Rift tree of Inquisition, there described as “smashing nearby foes to the ground” by “recreating your own fist from from the essence of the Fade”.

Knowing what we know about Solas, his specialization makes sense, he’s responsible for the Veil’s existence so of course he’d know how to manipulate its properties. He’s Fen’Harel, after all. 

Still with me? Good, because this ride is about to get bumpy.

As the default Rift mage he can use Veilstrike, recreating his “own fist from the essence of the Fade”,  but Veilstrike is actually a rename of Fist of the Maker…So what Solas is really doing whenever he casts Veilstrike is casting the Fist of the Maker. By recreating his own fist..It’s all in the name. Fist of the Maker pre-dates Rift magic, but its rebranding as Veilstrike is post-Breach and named after the Veil and not the Maker, possibly because the one who introduces us to this particular spell now is not Andrastian but the ancient elvhen god and creator of the Veil.  Technically speaking  we could say Solas, having created the Veil ages ago and therefore being the one responsible for the present reality of Thedas, is then, in a way, its maker. It’s a wild idea, I know, and there are some bits of lore scattered around that could support it, but i’m not jumping into that abyss yet-

In addition, let’s go back to his auto-leveled spells. At first sight there’s no basis for Solas being an electromancer. But like his Rift specialization, his magic preferences are lore/plot oriented. To consider:

Solas prefers the Storm tree. Skyhold is, by its very name, the place from where the Veil was installed. Some codices found at Skyhold mention electricity being used in unknown rituals at Skyhold’s location. Solas was responsible for creating the Veil.

With this in mind it can be concluded that Solas has always been an electromancer, and even used his electric powers in some way to help put up the Veil in the past.

tl;dr Solas was originally an electromancer and is a Rift Mage because he created the Veil and knows it better than anyone else. Also, he may be the Maker. (loljk or am i)

Now what would you say if I told you Solas possibly also does blood magic? Too much of a stretch? Maaaybe..Except maybe not. He’s not against it, thinks of it as simply a means to an end, and doesn’t disapprove of it unless it’s done in excess for all the wrong reasons (as they do in Tevinter) or is used to limit freedom like when used to bind unwilling spirits or control people’s minds. It’s just an idea, but there must be an explanation why blood magic and lyrium (titan blood, so, still blood magic) can be used to tear the Veil open. The Magisters did it before, and a second time when Corypheus sacrificed Divine Justinia in a ritual that also involved...Solas’ Foci. That is, Fen’ Harel’s Foci.

From Tevinter Nights we learn Solas is after the red lyrium idol (again, titan blood) which he claims belongs to him and is a necessary element for the ritual he must perform to take down the Veil. A ritual for which he’s willing to destroy Thedas as we know it, regrettably causing the dead of thousands. For all we know, those deaths are a necessary sacrifice because they are part of a massive blood magic ritual, Solas’ own death may also be part of it. If the blood of a Divine could be used to open the Breach, what could the blood of Fen’Harel be used for?? Solas’ new powers as Fen’Harel are, frankly, terrifying*, and he’s decided to do whatever it takes to see his mission through, sadly.

And all this leads me to future possibilities..we can imagine with Solas actively trying to take down the Veil there will be places where the Veil gets super thin or begins to disappear. Pockets of space where reality no longer respects natural laws of physics or logic. The Fade is fluid, ever changing, with the right power it can be reshaped at will and i imagine some of that may begin to leak into the physical world, so we may get mage (or spirit! )companions with skills capable of taking advantage of that. 

Lastly, i may add, right now and as far as we can see, Solas is OP as fuck*. He can kill you in your sleep from within your dreams. He can turn you into stone with just thinking of it, which means in a way he can bend the laws of nature of the physical world like he can do in the Fade, If in the future we get close to him,if we get our hands on artifacts or intel.. it won’t because we gathered the right people and resources, it won’t be because of clever tactics and espionage, it won’t be at all because we did anything right. It’ll be because he allows it, because he let us get that far. 

If we stop him at all it’ll be because he wants to be stopped.   

(Apologies in advance if some of this is poorly written, i revised it so many times words no longer look like words. Also half of this is just wild speculation on my part and nobody has to agree with me, after 5 years i may be connecting imaginary dots but hey, it’s fun! If you read this far...i am so sorry, thanks)

[the-halo-of-my-memory]

Tell Me You Love Me Anyway (rough draft - tease)

A/n: This probably has a billion errors but I feel like posting it anyway. This is only a tiny bit of what I have in mind. I could use as much feedback as possible for this. 

---- [Act 1] ----

Maker, did Anders miss being drunk. 

Justice hasn’t let him sway under the influence since their union. He sees it as a waste of time and senses. 

But to lose one's senses was such a beautiful and intoxicated mess to be a part of. 

Can you stop speaking nonsense?

It’s not nonsense, it’s passion.

It is a waste of time. 

Anders chuckles, nearly spilling his useless drink in the process. 

“What’s so funny, mage?” 

It’s Fenris. He held a drink also, now flirting with drunkenness that will soon take him fully. 

The two have only met not too long ago through a mutual friend, one Garrett Hawke. Anders liked Hawke enough. He was a fellow mage and Fereldan refugee who suffered loss before reaching Kirkwall. He came to his clinic a month ago asking for maps to the Deep Roads. 

It sounded so ridiculous. People who went to the Deep Roads voluntarily must have a death wish. To want to walk in a place full of darkspawn and deepstalkers. A place with rocky terrain and putrid wet air. It was dark and in some places you could hardly see your own hand in front of your place. He could light a torch but it wasn’t worth accidentally burning someone. 

He never wants to go there again. Especially not without Pounce. 

Things changed though. For a favor, he asked for a favor himself. 

Karl……..

He did love him…….and to see him like that……...made tranquil…….

It broke more than just his heart, it shattered his entire being. 

Oh Karl…..

Back in the Circle, the two had agreed between kisses in a quiet nook away from prying eyes, that if either of them became tranquil, they would not want to live like that. There was no known cure. It was either be made a thoughtless pet of the Templars and the Chantry or death. 

It wasn’t actually a plan that would happen. He didn’t think this would be an actual choice that he would make. 

Oh maker, Karl…….

It has been a month since he had to kill him. He still feels the blood on his hands, the sound of his last breath, and how empty he felt when he fell upon the floor. 

He still yearns to get a letter from him…..anything from him. 

Despite everything, he had Hawke to thank. At least Karl has peace now. He can have the maps and himself for the expedition if needed. 

Though he resented it at the time, he was glad he went to have drinks with Hawke the night after. Hearing his and Aveline’s story of loss before reaching Kirkwall brought him back from the pain. 

Hawke had asked him to join him on another night like that.

“But you know, in much better spirits,” he said with a hand on the back of his neck. He swore he saw him turn a shade red underneath that smile and beard.

And here he is now. 

He sat at a table with Fenris, Isabela, Varric, and Merrill. The women were giggling and whispering, Merrill turning pink and covering her mouth while Isabella said something too low for him to decipher. The men were talking about one of Varric’s tales. 

“No, dwarf. I have never read any of your stories.” 

“Have you ever thought about it?” 

“No.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Varric, I can’t read.” 

Well, that’s news…….

Wait, where’s Hawke? He was here just a second ago. 

Anders spots him at the bar. Talking with someone, a human woman. 

He’s never seen her before. She was short, maybe the same height as Merrill. She had deep warm mahogany skin, short dark curly hair, and wore a shirt opened at the neck and chest tucked into the tightest pair of trousers he’s ever seen. 

Sweet Andraste, what an arse!

They speak for a short moment before they each grab a drink and walk over to wear the rest of them sat. 

“Maker, Hawke!” Isabella yells, “How did you find this fine lady? Tell me, are you seeing anyone. Do you have a sister?” 

Hawke’s friend laughs loud and boisterous, covering her mouth half way before she sits herself down. 

“I’m not interested, I'm afraid. If I have a sister, I wouldn’t know. But I know some ladies who would love to give some company to a humorous and attractive lady such as yourself.” 

“You’ll have to tell me all about them, kitten.” 

She sat next to Anders and Hawke sat on the other side of her. 

Now closer to him, he gets a good look at her. 

Fine lady indeed. She had deep dark wide eyes like the night’s sky. Lips pursed as she took sips on her drink. Lots of skin covered down her naked neck and chest, teasing the swell of her breasts where her shirt is undone by the laces. She had small hands with gentle fingers tapping on the drink and the table. She wore no makeup and no jewelry.

Not that she needed them. 

“Friends!” Hawke stood up, hitting and shaking the table on the way. “I want you to meet my friend, Valentine. Val, these are my friends. This is Varric, and that’s Merrill and that’s-” He introduces everyone by name and they all exchange words and greetings. When Anders’ was introduced, he said “hello there.” She replies with only one word. 

“Pleasure.” 

*******

I have no idea where I am. 

It’s green all over. The grass is green and long and being blown by the wind. And the sky is blue and cloudless.

It’s not cold. But it was cold? There were clouds and snow and cold. And now…..not anymore. 

I don’t understand. I was in the car with Jackson. Where is he? 

I remember something. When we were driving…...I saw lights. Like headlights and then…….

Am I dead? Is this a dream? Am I in a coma? I don’t understand at all. 

My suitcase is here. It has my stuff still in it. Didn’t expect that old vintage thing to hold up. My clothes are there, but it’s too warm for them. I’m wearing the only pair of shoes I brought. My notebook was also there, and I’m writing in it right now. 

I don’t know what to do. 

*******

The next time he meets Hawke’s friend is when they get ready for the Deep Roads expedition. 

They were all together meeting with Bertrand in Hightown. He had to give credit to Hawke for making a colorful group of friends. He sees her near him, dressed in leather armor and carrying a long thin sword in a scabbard by her side. 

Her eyes catch his and she waves a hello to him. He waves back. 

Hawke and the dwarven brothers are discussing something when someone cries out. 

It was from a woman with tied back greying hair, running towards the group with a worrisome look in her exhausted eyes. 

“Excuse me, but I need to talk to my children”

Oh, that must be Hawke’s mother. He’s only heard nice things about her whenever Hawke opens up about his family. 

He sees him and Carver walk over to the lady and he’s too far to overhear. 

Some sort of disagreement starts and Carver is yelling and Hawke and their mother try to subdue him. There’s a lot of head shaking and hand waving. At last, Carver appears to accept whatever was that was said. Hawke walks away and his brother and mother stay where they stood. 

Hawke walks over to his groups of friends looking lost in thought. A moment passes and then with both hands he waves over the group to come over. 

“What happened?” Merrill asks. 

“Nothing,” Hawke sighs. “Mother just wanted Carver to stay. He…..eventually agreed.” 

“Now what?” Fenris crosses his arms, a knot between brows form. 

“We have to decide who I am bringing on this expedition.” Hawke sighs once more. He takes in a good look at his companions and bobs his head side to side as if he’s rolling die to choose who he’ll bring. 

“Alright! Besides Varric, I shall bring Anders and Valentine. Do you two agree?” 

Fuck no. 

“Of course, Hawke,” Anders instead says. It was inevitable. 

“Sure,” Valentine nods with a small smile upon her lips. 

“The rest of you can go about your business. We’ll be gone for a while in the meantime.” 

Some murmurs of “alright,” “be careful,” and “see you soon,” were heard before the others left their separate ways. 

Anders watches Hawke go back to the dwarven brothers, no doubt to wrap up a few things before they head out. 

“So you were a grey warden, correct?” It was Valentine. 

“Yes, I was.” She really was quite short. She was a whole head short of him, couldn’t look like she could put her head on his shoulder if she wanted. 

“That’s a lifelong joining, isn’t it? I imagine they’re not happy having you…..displaced.” 

That got a chuckle out of him. 

“Yes, you could say that.” 

“That’s too bad,” she kicks a pebble with the tip of her boot, her eyes looking into the sky and nowhere in particular. “I’m sure they’re doing fine without you. You have more important things like spelunking with us losers in demon infested caves.” 

That got him to laugh out loud. 

“Well when you put it like that, I’m even more grateful I left the wardens.” 

When she laughs, she laughs with her being. She bends forward with her arms wrapped around her abdomen as if she was a tree swaying in the wind. 

She’s kinda cute, isn’t she? 

I do not see what this has to do with the task at hand. 

Relax. It’s just an observation. 

*******

I am in a country called Ferelden. I have never heard of this place before. Is that old English or whatever the fuck? I don’t know, my head hurts and I’m tired from all the travel. 

It took me days by foot, but I eventually reached a small village called Draycott. I asked around for a place to stay and work. And luckily I did. Their innkeeper/pub owner was looking for someone to help clean and keep order in their establishment. He seemed like enough of a nice guy to trust for now. Everything is ancient. There is no electricity or indoor plumbing. Everyone uses candles, gets water from the well, and shits in a pot. I’m afraid to ask why that is. 

I am currently writing in my journal in a room of my own by candle light in the late evening. I’m even using a quill and ink. It’s much harder than I thought. Hope I can read this later. 

This place is so much more strange than I first thought. 

This country and land is certainly beautiful. I believe it's either mid to late spring to early fall. Grass is long, the hills roll, mountains are tall, and the trees high. 

But then I noticed the plant and wildlife. I have never seen these herbs or flowers or whatever the hell they are. They look like something out of a story book. And the animals. I’ve seen wolves and bears from a distance. Luckily, I haven't bothered them enough to attack me. 

But then I noticed a crow. It had such a large beak with ruffled feathers and splashes of red? 

And spiders. The most gigantic ones I have ever seen. They look like the size of horses! What the fuck??

I must’ve been hallucinating. I should get some rest. The people here like to wake at daybreak. 

Farmers are insane. 

*******

They have been in the deep roads for a few days. 

It’s as claustrophobic and dark and all things awful as Anders last remembers. 

He wished the warden commander was here. She must be so warm and cozy now being the queen of Ferelden. 

And Pounce. His little mews and purrs was what really kept him going. 

Well, that and screwing around with Nathaniel was also fun. He had the best expressions. 

The company he has now however wasn't too bad. They certainly made an entertaining crowd. 

“Garrett, if you had to choose, would you rather eat your shirt or your trousers?” 

The echoes of Hawke’s belly laugh lasts almost a minute as they trek along. He had to hold on to his staff to keep himself upright. It was quite contagious and made himself, Varric, and Valentine laugh along with him. 

“Maker Val, I knew I wouldn’t regret bringing you. I think I would eat my shirt. My shirt in particular today looks rather tasty.” 

“I swear no one wants to eat their pants, it’s always the shirt.” 

“Who the hell wants to eat their pants?” Varric raises a brow. 

“I don't know, but I’m waiting for someone to tell me.” 

Without daylight, it’s impossible to tell when it's dawn or near dusk. After crossing corridors and making quick work of darkspawn that lurked, they all agreed to make camp and rest. 

Spare food and drink are brought out, bringing out better spirits for the exhausted party. Bottles of wine and flasks of water. Wrapped packs of dried fruit, meat, and nuts. 

Words start spilling and conversations follow. 

It never ceases to amaze Anders how well Hawke carries himself in social situations. He held a poise like a noble yet spoke like a child raised by pirates. Held confidence in his chest and said things like “Anders, can you help me get my hand out of this jar?” 

 He was like an affectionate pet. 

“Val,” Hawke said. He sat next to Varric while Anders and Valentine sat opposite them. “Did you know that our friend Anders runs a clinic in Darktown?”

Valentine laughs.

“That’s very all of a sudden, Garrett. That would make you a healer, yes?” She looks at Anders now. 

“That’s right,” he smiles back for politeness. “I just try to help the sick as much as I can.” 

“That’s incredibly thoughtful of you. You must make decent coin as well.” 

“Oh, I don’t charge.” Valentine nearly spits out as she drinks from a water flask. 

“You don't?” Her eyes wide and brows raised. “That’s insane. How do you get by?” 

“I get by by getting by. Also being dragged around by Hawke helps.” 

“And you are incredibly welcomed!” Hawke laughs, so does Varric, Valentine, and Anders. 

The group would soon pack their things and move on. 

*******

NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE GIANT SPIDERS ARE REAL I HATE WHERE EVER THE FUCK I AM AT 

ANYWAYS....

Life in the village is peaceful. I can’t complain.

Yeah sure, the food could be better and I have to shit in a pot but overall, I like it. 

Not shaving is a big plus for me.

I’ve made the mistake of asking too many questions. Some of the things I don't know are common knowledge, causing people to look at me weird. Someone even asked if I had brain damage. 

And then I realized having amnesia is a great excuse. Everyone now believes I have suffered such an injury. That’s my life now. 

The innkeeper offered me a position to keep his rooms cleaned and naturally, I accepted. He also asked me to watch and possibly teach his young daughter to read and write along with watching her.

She is the dearest thing I’ve seen in a long time.

Her name is Wenona. She is nearly four years of age, has light brown hair that is always braided, has a freckled face, and wears homemade dresses. 

She is mute. I have never heard her talk or make any noise. Her father says she’s only shy, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was on the spectrum. She is nice nonetheless and gestures when she wants something like food. I speak to her with simple words but not any different than to the others i have spoken here in the village. She understands me just fine. 

We have so far spent days outdoors, picking herbs and flowers and laying in the grass and staring at the clouds. Indoors I help her learn how to write, have tea parties, and cook and bake . I read to her every night before bed and sometimes I sing to her. 

I’ve also realized that this girl has no friends. I’ve seen a few other children here, but they never go up to here to talk or play. I asked her myself and she nodded. I told her that she was my friend and the look in her eyes…..

Learning about the world through her is an amazing experience too. 

They have a religion here called Andrastanism. It sounds similar to Christianity, but instead of God, they have a maker and instead of a son, the maker has a bride named Andraste. I’ve read their biblical stories to Wenona. 

I still have so much to learn. 

****

[degenerate-perturbation]

Chapters: 13/? Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Amell/Female Surana Characters: Female Amell, Female Surana, Anders, Velanna, Nathaniel Howe, Oghren (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Sigrun (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-Harm, Blood Magic Series: Part 2 of void and light, blood and spirit Summary: Amell and Surana are out of the Circle, and are now free to build a life together. But when the prison doors fly open, what do you have in common with the one shackled next to you, save for the chains that bound you both?

After Yvanne had gone, Loriel sat for a while on their—just hers, now—bed, listening. The elaborate system of sense-crystals was now mostly defunct, but only mostly. She could almost feel Yvanne leave her life, out the door and down the stairs, through the corridors and passageways and to the stables. She felt, rather than heard, the explosion of the front gate, that indicated Yvanne’s final departure from even her imagined sight.

If she knew her at all, if she had ever known her, Yvanne would run all night. And she would never see her again.

Once she was certain Yvanne was beyond her reach, Loriel rose and dressed. She drank the rest of the water, and moved the chair Yvanne had slept in back to its proper place in the corner. She combed her hair and washed her face in the basin.

The whole time she thought— it was for the best.

The floor was littered with empty potion bottles; these she gathered up for washing and reuse. She was forever breaking glassware in her lab, and it was always handy to have replacements.

It was always going to be like this.

She was surprised to find how little sadness she felt. This ending was, if anything, perfectly predictable. All this time she’d been waiting for the inevitable to happen, and finally she’d realized that she didn’t need to let it happen to her. She didn’t have to be the type of person that things happened to anymore. She could make them happen herself.

It couldn’t have been any other way.

She couldn’t imagine herself spending much time in the bedroom anymore. The cot she had in her lab wasn’t too uncomfortable; she could sleep there. But she didn’t quite feel like leaving yet.

With the area around the bed cleared, she wandered over to the desk. She capped the inkwell, cleaned the pen, cleared away the parchment. Then she noticed the dust. Yvanne used to use the desk almost nightly, but she supposed that lately she’d been lapsed in her duties as acting Warden-Commander. No wonder. Yvanne had outgrown that shell long ago.

She gave the room a good magically-assisted dusting. The burst of wind magic knocked one of the decorative figurines off the mantlepiece, and she let it fall and smash on the ground. She didn’t know why. She’d liked that one.

Really, this was good for the both of them. It was no good for Loriel to shirk her duties as Commander as entirely as she had. She’d need to go back to handling more and more of them. She’d done so before—she would do it again.

It couldn’t have happened any other way. She knew that. She accepted it in her heart. And really, she felt perfectly serene.

After all. It was always going to have come to this.

Loriel sat in the high-backed wooden chair behind the desk and exhaled slowly.

Then she put her head down on the desk and sobbed.

She didn’t stop until well past daybreak.

—

Someone was knocking on the door. Loriel raised her head blearily from the desk. Her face felt sticky and puffy and itchy, and her head throbbed. She hadn’t been asleep, exactly,  but there were only so many hours in a day that one could cry before one simply ran out of tears. For a long time she’d simply lain her head in her arms and mourned.

She would get over it. She would. She had to believe that she would. But first she would mourn.

But there was still someone knocking on the door.

A flash of irritation surged through her. Didn’t people in this damn Keep know not to bother her?

“Commander?” came the worried voice. Sigrun.

What did she want? Since when did Sigrun ever sound so concerned for her? For a split second, Loriel considered answering. What if it was something important? Yvanne was gone now. There was nobody to handle an emergency, if one did crop up.

But the thought of being seen by anybody in the state that she was in, puffy-eyed and splotchy, proved unbearable. Loriel stayed silent until Sigrun went away. She did not let out the breath that she was holding until she heard the Legionnaire’s receding footsteps.

Only then did she realize that when Sigrun had said Commander, she had meant Yvanne.

Of course. She was the one people saw every day, and the one who had suddenly disappeared in the night. Did any of them even remember that Loriel was still here?

She wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t. She hadn’t made much of an effort to remind them.

Her stomach growled. How long had it been since she’d eaten? No wonder she was starting to feel so lightheaded. She cursed her inability to sustain herself on magic alone, and resolved to learn how before she proceeded with her research. She’d have to; without anybody bringing her food, she was liable to starve to death.

There would be a lot of things she would have to change. Every time she thought of one, the misery rose up in her again. Already she was tired of tears. How long was this going to go on for? Her heart lay so heavy in her chest that it took palpable effort not to collapse on the nearest surface and let darkness take her.

What had she done? How was she going to manage herself, let alone the entire Keep? Vaguely she was aware that there must have been so many things that Yvanne had been taking care of that Loriel had no idea about, things Loriel wouldn’t know about until months later when they blew up in her face.

Her eyes fell back to the desk, smooth and huge and oaken. She'd been so pleased with it when she’d first arrived here and realized that it was hers, after years of working on pathetic student desks in the circle. Now it crouched in the center of the room like a carnivorous beast, ready to snatch her hand off if she approached it.

No, she realized. It was no good. She’d never sort things out. What she really needed to do was promote somebody to Yvanne’s old post and make them handle it. Nathaniel Howe, perhaps. He was responsible, wasn't he? It didn’t even have to be him. It could be anybody, really. She didn't care who.

But in order to go out there and promote somebody, she would have to submit to the ordeal of being perceived, and she could hardly do that in her current state. She didn't even know any spells that might have helped. Her magic only ever made things worse; that’s what it was for. Yvanne was always the one who had spells that made things better.

Perhaps—if she could just keep it together for a few hours—

Her stomach growled again, and when she tried to stand her head spun.

No, she couldn’t wait a few hours. She was going to have to go out there.

She combed her hair again, cursorily, splashed water on her face, and looked at herself in the disc of polished copper. She looked horrible. Pathetic.

She bit her lip, hesitating with her hand an inch away from the doorknob, and then let herself out.

—

In the end she proved too great a coward. Not three steps out her door, she turned herself invisible. She needed to face the Keep, but she’d do it on her own terms, when she was ready. They would perceive her then, and not before.

She drifted through the passageways, a ghost in her own castle. It wasn’t long until she saw somebody, though not anyone she recognized. The stairways were narrow enough here that she had to wait for the young man to pass before moving on. If he had any clue she was there, he didn’t let on.

Varel, she thought, she had to find Seneschal Varel, he always knew exactly how to take care of things. Then she remembered that he was dead—he had been dead for years. Who had been his replacement? Garavel? Garahel? Something like that. She didn’t remember his face, but the Seneschal always wore a little pin featuring a winged quill design.

She had to wander an embarrassingly long time before she found him, in his own private office—much shabbier than her own—and then only because she caught another Warden leaving just as she arrived. She entered invisibly just as the door closed, then realized she’d landed herself in an awkward situation. The Seneschal was settling down to read something, his brow creased in worry.

Suppressing a sigh, she knocked on his door, from the inside. “Yes?” he said distractedly, apparently not noticing that the knock had come from the wrong side of the door.

She turned visible again, hands clasped primly behind her back. To Garahel’s credit, he suppressed most of his shock, and only jerked a little bit.

“C-Commander?” he said.

“Yes,” said Loriel. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”

“No, not at all,” he lied. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Warden Amell has vacated her post. I will need someone to replace her.”

His eyes widened. “Vacated her post?”

“Yes,” said Loriel, and didn’t elaborate. “Take whatever steps you need to take to promote Warden Howe to her position.”

“Warden Howe? Ser, er—”

She pierced him with an icy look. She was growing tired of his stammering.“Yes, Seneschal?”

“I’m afraid that Warden Howe has been posted away from the Keep for months now.”

“Oh. I see.” She felt her face flare in embarrassment. Had Yvanne ever mentioned that?  Had Loriel simply not listened, or forgotten?

“I could of course recall him—”

“No, that won’t be necessary. If Howe is not available it will have to be somebody else. Please provide me with a list of suitable candidates for the position. When can you get it to me?”

“I—well—there are a great many qualified wardens—”

“When, Garahel?”

“Give me until tomorrow.”

“Good. That’s all.” She turned to go, then stopped. “One more thing. Have the kitchens send meals to my chambers, twice a day. Otherwise, I am not to be disturbed.”

“Of course, ser.” He took a breath. “If I may, ser, there may be a great deal of confusion among the men regarding Comman— acting Commander Amell’s sudden departure. It may be a good idea to formally address the Keep, let everyone know what has happened.”

“Very well,” she managed. “Have everyone assemble in the great hall in an hour’s time and I will address them.”

“It will be done, ser.” He saluted her. “Commander, if I may ask, forgive me if it is not my place—is everything alright?”

She looked at him. “You’re right,” she said, “It isn’t your place.”

With that out of the way, she went to the kitchens, invisible again, feeling foolish and angry with herself. She’d panicked when she’d agreed to address the Keep. She cursed her perennial inability to simply say no to a request the whole way to the kitchens.

On her way to the lower levels she finally spotted a set of familiar faces. Sigrun pacing in a little circle, Velanna with her forehead leaned against the wall.

“I’m not sure what to make of it.” Sigrun bit her lip, worried. “I already tried the door…”

“Maybe we should just break it down, then,” said Velanna.

“I’m not risking that! What if she’s in there? That’s a good way to get my soul sucked out.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” snapped Velanna, although she didn’t look so sure.

Me, Loriel thought, they meant me. Is that really what they thought of her? Hot anger bloomed in her gut like coal.

“I trust Amell. It will become clear soon.”

Sigrun sighed. “I hope you’re right…”

Velanna’s ear twitched as Loriel glided past, and for a moment Loriel thought she’d been caught—although caught doing what, she couldn’t say. But after a moment Velanna went back to her conversation.

The kitchens weren’t busy. A girl was washing dishes and whistling tunelessly. Loriel didn’t have the patience to deal with her.

“Leave the room,” she commanded. “ Forget you saw me.”

The serving girl’s eyes went blank as the dish she was washing slipped from her fingers. She left the room with her hands still dripping.

“And close the door behind you,” Loriel added irritably.

Funny how guilty she’d felt the first time she’d used blood magic to take someone’s mind. She’d been so intolerably scrupulous then. How had anyone ever put up with her?

Only then did it occur to her that it might have been a good idea to ask—or “ask”—someone to prepare her a meal. Loriel wasn’t sure how old she was, but she suspected that she was now closer to thirty than twenty, and she still had no idea how to cook. But right then she was hungry enough that she was ready to eat whatever was on hand and unlikely to poison her.

How inconvenient, how wretched and disgusting, that she still had base needs like this. She would have to work on eliminating them.

Having eaten, and tasted nothing, she went to go find Varel—no, not Varel, it was Garahel now, she needed to remember that. She didn’t need to look long. He had done as she’d asked, and gathered what certainly looked like most of the Wardens of Vigil’s Keep in the Great Hall. She was no longer invisible, and a few people noticed her as she approached. Gasps and murmurs spread out from her like ripples.

Maker, this was awkward.

She raised a hand, and as one the hall fell silent. “Good—” Evening? Morning? Afternoon? What time was it? “—day, Wardens of Vigil’s Keep.” Her voice was soft, too soft, but the hall was silent, straining to hear her in the huge chamber. “I appear today to inform you all that there have been some changes at the highest level of command. Warden Amell has stepped down from her post, and will no longer be functioning in the role of acting Warden-Commander.”

She cleared her throat. “As such, a position has opened up in the ranks. If anyone wishes to be considered for promotion, they should submit their names to Seneschal Garahel by the end of the day.”

“But what’s happened to Amell?” somebody called out. She didn’t quite catch who it had been. She had to stop herself from glaring in their direction.

“She has departed the Keep, on my orders,” said Loriel. “She is pursuing secret business. I can speak no further of it.”

“When will she return?” That had been an elven woman near the front.

“I can speak no further of it,” Loriel repeated.

A great deal of murmuring broke out at this. She could tell they weren’t quite buying it. Well, she didn’t care.

She felt that she ought to have said something encouraging. Something to reassure them that nothing untoward was happening and that nothing was changing, which was true, even if the mood in the room didn’t seem to reflect that. But nothing came to mind. The world hadn’t ended, she reminded herself. It only felt like it did.

So after a sufficient pause, she said, “That is all. You are dismissed,” and departed. She managed to leave the room in a dignified manner, slow and regal, but the moment she was away from public eye, she rendered herself invisible again, and darted back into her office before anyone tried to talk to her.

—

The next day Garahel delivered the list of names to be considered for promotion. She scanned it, looking for names she recognized, and found none.

“I suppose you’ll want to conduct interviews—” Garahel began.

“No,” Loriel said dispassionately. She read the name at the top of the list. “I’ve made my choice. Promote Tevva Gondrin.”

“Er, that’s Tevye, ser.”

“Is it? You should work on your handwriting.”

“Of course, ser. Sorry, ser.” He hesitated, then barrelled on, “Ser, while Tevye is a fine warden, I’m not sure...that is to say, are you certain that you don’t want to—”

“Yes, Garahel, I’m quite certain,” said Loriel. “Go and tell Tevye the good news. Dismissed.”

Garahel departed, hopefully not to bother her again for a long time. She breathed slightly easier, now that it was done.

With the one thing she needed to take care of done with, she was left to brood.

Her mind was perfectly at peace, tranquil in the knowledge that she had done the right thing. But her body wanted to cry its heart out and didn’t much care what her mind had concluded.

I did the right thing, she thought, again and again. Because she had to have done. Because the alternative, that she had done it for nothing, was too horrible to contemplate.

Loriel had little memory of the next few days. Her head was too full of fog to work, and being in the lab only filled her with guilt for not working. Neither could she stand to be in the bedroom, soaked as it was in grief and memory.

So she spent most of her time invisible, wandering the Keep.

It counted as work, she told herself. She was keeping a finger on the pulse of her fortress. She had to be the Commander again, that meant she had to know what was going on.

The mood in the Keep regarding the situation in general, and Loriel in particular, was not...particularly optimistic.

On one occasion she chanced upon the three remaining original Wardens sitting together. Loriel never would have thought to see Sigrun and Velanna so at ease with Oghren of all people—but then, she hadn’t even known Nathaniel was gone. What did she know about any of these people, anymore?

“I’m telling you, something weird is going on,” Sigrun said. “She wouldn’t just leave.”

“I think it’s fairly obvious what’s going on,” Velanna snorted. “Oghren understands.”

Oghren grunted and quaffed.

“I just feel so bad for her,” Sigrun said. “She must be a mess. Didn’t you see her barely holding it together during the announcement? I think she’d been crying…”

“Obviously she was crying,” said Velanna. “Wouldn’t you be crying?”

“I guess it was bound to happen eventually,” Sigrun said, and sighed. “Geez, I’m going to miss her...who else is going to bring me new books? I hope she’s happier now, wherever she’s gone.”

Oh, thought Loriel. They think she left me.

A petty part of her wanted to turn visible right then and there and set things straight. She had her pride. Yvanne hadn’t left her. She had left Yvanne. Or anyway, had told her to go, which was the same thing.

“Maybe I should try going up there…”

“Don’t offer her your pity,” Velanna snapped. “I wouldn’t want it, if it were me.”

Despite herself, Loriel felt a rush of gratitude. She didn’t think she’d be able to stand it if Sigrun tried to comfort her. She didn’t need comfort. She was going to get over this. She was going to be fine.

It was exactly why she couldn’t go out unless she concealed herself. If she did they would be kind to her, and she couldn’t think of anything in the world she deserved or wanted less.

Having heard that, she returned to her chambers. A cold meal was waiting in the dumbwaiter. She ate it, didn’t taste it, and then fell asleep at the desk. She almost always slept there now, with her head resting on her folded arms. She was used to it. She didn’t think she’d be able to stand getting into the bed.

When she wasn’t wandering the halls she sat in her room. Mostly she stared out the window. Sometimes her breath would hitch and she would have to cover her eyes from the world for a while.

Sometimes she would pick through the belongings in the place. The plan had been to take anything that had been Yvanne’s and put it in a chest and lock it and never look inside it ever again. But that rapidly became nonviable, because everything in here was Yvanne’s.

Yvanne had filled this room with things to make it a home—the tapestries of capering forest animals, the scented candles, the knick-knacks on the mantelpiece. Mementos from their travels stood upon every surface and hung on every wall. No square inch of this room existed without Yvanne’s imprint on it.

Yvanne had built this Keep, had shepherded its people, had protected it with blood and spirit. And Loriel had driven her from it.

Perhaps she just hadn’t wanted her to have it.

The thought filled her with so much self disgust that she resolved never to think it again.

—

Perhaps a week into her wallowing, Velanna broke through her door.

Loriel had been reading a book. She had no idea of its title, or author, or even vaguely what it was about. But she’d been reading it all afternoon and was deeply annoyed to be interrupted.

“I thought I locked that door,” she said flatly.

Velanna sniffed disdainfully, as though a lock could possibly matter to one of her talents.

Loriel sighed, exhaling harshly through her nostrils. “What do you want, Velanna?”

Velanna looked around the room. The broken things littering the floor. The piles of empty, dirty dishes, several days worth of them, even though getting rid of them was as simple as just putting them back in the dumbwaiter.

“Amell’s really gone, then.”

“Yes,” Loriel said, strained. “Is that all you had to say? Get out.”

Velanna did not get out. She took several steps around the room, surveying. The heavy curtains. The perfectly made, untouched bedclothes.

“Why did she really leave?”

“That is none of your concern.” Loriel rose. “I am ordering you to get out.”

“Left you, did she?”

Loriel had had enough. She slammed her fist on the table. “That is not what happened, not that it is any of your business. Frankly, how dare you come in here and say such things to me? I am your commanding officer, or have you forgotten? I told her to go.”

Velanna watched her impassively. If she was startled by her outburst she didn’t show it.

“And anyway, it was inevitable.” Loriel's hand gripped the edge of the desk. “It was always going to happen this way. I always knew it. I’m not...it was always…”

The steel went out of her spine, and she found herself lowering herself back into the high-backed commander’s chair. She covered her eyes with her hands and to her horror, felt her breath hitch.

Loriel had always been an easy crier. It didn’t take much; the tears always seemed to lurk just under her surface. But she always did it in private. As long as she could remember, the only living person who had ever seen her cry had been Yvanne. Now she was doing it in front of a woman who hated and disdained her, simply because she was too weak to prevent herself from doing so.

“No,” Velanna said. “No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to fall apart."

The incredible boldness of this statement was enough to startle Loriel out of her spiral of misery. "W-what?"

"What is wrong with you? You’re better than this.”

Am I? Loriel thought cynically. She supposed she understood how somebody might get that impression. But it wasn’t true. She wasn’t better than this, and she never had been.

Velanna snapped her fingers in front of her face. “Hey! Cut that out! You’re being pathetic. And you might be a rude and faithless round-ear with no respect for your people, but one thing you aren’t is pathetic. So cut it out!”

“I’m not—”

“You are!” Velanna said furiously. “You are wallowing.”

The word echoed through the room.

“I know,” Loriel said. It came out quiet, though she ought to have been angry.

“You are engaging in behavior that is beneath you.”

Loriel sighed. “Yes. I know. I just…” She swallowed. “I really loved her.”

She was expecting mockery. But instead Velanna went quiet, her shoulders slumping. Then she dragged over a chair, and sat in it. Yvanne had sat in that chair not so long ago, sitting vigil over Loriel’s unconscious body the way she’d so often done for her when they were children. Now she never would again.

“The Dalish have a saying,” Velanna said, uncharacteristically gentle. “A bird may love a fish. But where would they build a home together?”

Loriel had the vaguest notion that Velanna was, in some way, talking about herself. That it may have had something to do with Nathaniel’s departure, whenever that had been. But Loriel had no intention of asking her about it. Yvanne would have hated not knowing (this thought was a knife in her heart), but Loriel let it lie.

Perhaps that was why they were able to come to this accord.

“I know,” she said quietly. Then, “I told her to go. I was the one who understood.”

Velanna nodded tersely, like she understood, too. A great part of Loriel wanted to deny this—how could Velanna possibly understand, how could anybody understand the depths of her love and the enormity of the sacrifice she had made?—but a greater part only wanted to accept what she’d been given: absolution.

“Right,” said Velanna. “So are you going to stay in here and mope for the rest of your life?”

“No. That is not my intent.”

“Because my sister threw away her life for what you’re doing. If you waste her gift…”

“I don’t intend to do that.”

“Good,” said Velanna. “Good.”

She began to reach out, as though to touch Loiel in comfort. But thankfully before she got anywhere close, reconsidered.

Velanna nodded tersely, rose, and had the decency not to offer anything further. She left without a word of comfort or respect.

And Loriel...felt better. What Velanna had said was exactly what she needed. She was being pathetic. She was wallowing. Not just mourning, but reveling in sorrow, drowning herself in it on purpose.

In another life she might have permitted herself such indulgences, but s he had an important job to do. It was high time that she get back to it.

First thing first—she couldn’t stay in this room, not for one moment longer. She would have her office in another chamber, one where she could still access her hidden lab easily. Trivial to accomplish, with some expertly applied earth spells.

She gathered all her things. Depressingly, it didn’t amount to much, but at least it meant she wouldn’t need to spend much time moving. As she closed the door to her and Yvanne’s former bedchamber, she hesitated, and chanced to look back.

We had a cottage in the woods. There were crow’s feet around your eyes and grey in your hair. We were happy.

But those were a child’s things. It had never been possible. It was never going to have been true.

She slammed the door closed, locked and barred it, and with a careful fire spell, melted the key to slag. That part of her life was over. She was ready to let it go.

Of course she still loved Yvanne. She would love her until, and unless, she died. But she could not live with her. She was beginning to suspect that she could not live with anyone.

That was the way of things, perhaps. Whether or not Loriel had ever been built to be fit for the world, this was the way she had grown. The way she had been obliged to grow. There would be no changing that.

She accepted it. She could live with it. She could move on from it, forward into the future she would build with her two hands, with her blood and with her spirit.

It would be a better world, the one that she would build.

But she did not intend to love again.

[fyrapartnersearch]

~ will you let me deceive you ~ (fandom cravings search)

greetings be careful who you trust, the devil was once an angel. ~ lowercase is purely for aesthetic purposes

~ feel free to call me deviation, dev, d, or lexi

~ i am a 22 year old female, meaning that i'd prefer to rp with people 18+ not only to be closer in age to me but also because my rps can venture into dark topics

~ central standard time

~ you can expect an average of four responses a week although i strive to daily respond, if possible.

~ my replies range from 400 - 4000 words, and i try to mirror my partner

~ third person, present tense although i will rp with people who write past tense (to each his own)

~ doubling is required for all fandom roleplays to keep everything fair. please do not contact me, asking if i can just play who you would like.

~ sucker for ooc chat although it is not required what I want in a partner (yes, we like to break the rules, but these aren't meant to be broken) it is not a shame to be deceived; but it is to stay in the deception 1| activity is fairly important to me because if i go two-three weeks without a response, i will likely lose interest which I don’t want to do! i would prefer if my partners could get me, at least, two responses a week.

2| because i am literate, i am looking for partners of the same! i would prefer, at least, two hearty paragraphs per response, although i am more than happy to receive more. would you like to basically create a book with me? i'm totally down!

3| please help me build our universe, and our story. i don’t want to do it all by myself. i want to make sure that we both enjoy it.

4| please don’t godmod my characters, and no mary sues or anything like that! nobody is perfect or without weakness. we love originality!

5| please be able to write in third person because first person makes it a bit weird for me, and way more personal than i'd like to go. i write in present tense myself although i am more than welcoming to those who write past tense.

6| i am ghost friendly, just please let me know if you decide to drop the rp, if you can, so i don’t find myself waiting for a response that will never come.

7| please let me know if you will be unable to respond for a week or longer, just so that I am aware and don’t think you have dropped the rp.

8| this isn’t a rule, but a preference. i love to get to know my rp partners, so ooc chatter is always welcome!

9| please have a good grasp on grammar and spelling. no text talk.

10| be willing to double if you decide to do canon x oc just so that it makes it fair to everyone.

11| please do NOT (see the caps) just send me a message, asking whether or not I’m still looking, or giving a measly sentence about yourself. i would prefer if you would tell me about your writing style, what you want to write with me, etc. give me something to go off of! let me see who you are!

12| i will rp smut, but it needs to be apart of the story and not overtaking it 

fandoms belief is the deception you play upon yourself now, let's move on to the fun part, and what i'm sure you guys are waiting on... the fandoms! because of all of the television i watch (is that a bad thing...?) i have fandoms all over the place that i'd love to rp! unless it is crossed out then i am still looking to do it, so feel free to contact me about it! i will have the fandoms divided up and under each, i will include characters i'm willing to play, and who i'd like to play against. again, just a reminder that doubling is mandatory although it doesn't have to stop there. i'm down to double/triple/quadruple, whatever you want. i also am down for au's and using the universe but using ours ocs. just shoot me ideas of what you want.  tv shows we often shed tears that deceive ourselves after deceiving others 1| arrow i'm currently in season five of this television show; meaning that i am not caught up although it does not mean that i won't rp it, just no spoilers, please! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: oliver)

2| flash i'm currently in season three of this television show; meaning that i am not caught up although it does not mean that i won't rp it, just no spoilers, please! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: barry)

3| vampire diaries i'm currently in season five of this television show; meaning that i am not caught up although it does not mean that i won't rp it, just no spoilers, please! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone except enzo, kai, vicki, april, kol) (characters i'm looking for: kol, damon, elijah, klaus)

4| glee i'm completely caught up with this show! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: noah (puck), Jesse, brody, jake, ryder)

5| game of thrones i'm currently in season six of this television show; meaning that i am not caught up although it does not mean that i won't rp it, just no spoilers, please! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone except gregor, eddard, sandor, oberyn, brienne, melisandre, jorah,) (characters i'm looking for: gendry, ramsey, joffrey, khal drogo, jaime)

6| pretty little liars i'm currently in season three of this television show; meaning that i am not caught up although it does not mean that i won't rp it, just no spoilers, please! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: wren, alex, ezra)

7| outlander i'm currently in season two of this television show; meaning that i am not caught up although it does not mean that i won't rp it, just no spoilers, please! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: jamie)

8| 13 reasons why i'm currently in season two of this television show; meaning that i am not caught up although it does not mean that i won't rp it, just no spoilers, please! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone except hannah baker, tony, sheri, skye) (characters i'm looking for: bryce, zach, tyler)

9| elite i'm currently caught up with this television show (characters i'm willing to play: anyone except valerio, fernando, christian, marina, omar) (characters i'm looking for: polo, ander, guzman)

10| shadowhunters  i'm currently caught up with this show and have read the books! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone except lucian, jonathan) (characters i'm looking for: jace, magnus, sebastian) 

11| the fosters i'm currently in season two of this television show; meaning that i am not caught up although it does not mean that i won't rp it, just no spoilers, please! (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: brandon) movies it is more tolerable to be refused than deceived  1| mcu (characters i'm willing to play: anyone except strange, peter parker, peter quill, thanos, ant man)

(characters i'm looking for: tony stark, thor, loki, steve rodgers, clint barton, bruce banner) 2| after (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: hardin, jace)

3| twilight (characters i'm willing to play: anyone except emmett, james, sam) (characters i'm looking for: seth, embry, paul)

4| matched (not a movie, technically, but it is in my heart) (characters i'm willing to play: ky, xander) (characters i'm looking for: ky, xander)

5| divergent (only the first one) (characters i'm willing to play: al) (characters i'm looking for: four, eric, peter)

6| the host (characters i'm willing to play: jared, ian) (characters i'm looking for: jared, ian)

7| disney (special plot, shh, it's a secret. message me if you're interested) asian dramas it is amazing how complete the delusion that beauty is goodness 1| crash landing on you (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: junghyuk, seung-joon, kwang-beom)

2| boys over flowers (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: jun-pyo)

3| i need romance 1/2/3 (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: sung-hyun, seok-hyun, joo wan)

4| heirs/inheritors (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: kim tan, choi young-do)

5| good morning call (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: hisashi uehara, daichi shinozaki) anime time will inevitably uncover dishonesty and lies; history has no place for them 1| devil’s line (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: anzai)

2| vampire knight (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: zero, kaname)

3| amnesia (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: toma, shin, kent, ikki)

4| dragon ball z (characters i'm willing to play: goten, gohan, krillin, android 17, yamcha) (characters i'm looking for: trunks, vegeta)

5| kuzu no honkai (scum's wish) (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: mugi) cartoons  life is the art of being well deceived; and in order that the deception may succeed it must be habitual and uninterrupted 1| teen titans (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: robin)

2| young justice  (characters i'm willing to play: anyone) (characters i'm looking for: superboy)

3| adventure time (characters i'm willing to play: anyone except ice king, lsp) (characters i'm looking for: marshal lee)

4| avatar: the last airbender/legend of korra  (characters i'm willing to play: anyone except toph) (characters i'm looking for: zuko, bolin, mako, iroh (younger)) last words deception may give us what we want for the present, but it will always take it away, in the end thank you for reading through to the end of my thread, and i do hope that you found something you liked. just a reminder that all fandoms can be changed to use ocs or au's, i'm very open to those kinds of things! in addition, if you would like to contact me about a fandom, please send a message as opposed to posting on this thread (so i can keep it clean). i am only looking for a few partners, but i'd love to hear from as many of you as possible! thank you lovelies!

contact me 

feel free to email me (inthenameofjustice15@gmail.com) to talk about rping with me! 

[loquaciousquark]

6th Guardian. Chilly, but with a bite just sharp enough to make it unpleasant as well as uncomfortable

There’s a twitchy new elf in town. Showed up last night to ambush an ambush, as Varric’s friend we were supposed to meet is apparently become an ex-friend, or an ex-anything, really. That was unkind of me, but I do find myself intolerably snippy when someone I don’t know a) saves my life so that I owe them a favor, and b) looks better than me doing it.

They were Crows, too, which I rather thought had been dealt with ever since Isabela’s friend Zevran came through and charmed the pants off all of us. Well, off Isabela, certainly. Well, except she doesn’t wear--never mind. I suppose when one is famous enough to have made enemies of both effective heads of state in one’s town one ought not to be surprised when someone else comes a-killing down the lane.

You know, I said I wanted to vacation in Orlais, but this isn’t quite the way I’d meant it. The Heart of the Many is what she’s after, this Tallis, some fantastic jewel (pah!), and the villainous Duke Prosper (really!) keeps it clutched in his Orlesian...clutches. Leave me be, journal, I’m tired and Fenris slept at his own place tonight, so I’m woeful lonely even with the dog curled on the side of the bed where he belongs.

Now Toby looks betrayed. He can’t even read! How should he know what I’m writing, aside from the fact he’s the oldest friend I’ve got & he knows everything I’m thinking in one glance? Hardly fair, is it?

Anyway, Tallis thinks we ought to come a-crashing to this gala he’s hosting at Chateau Haine in Orlais. A hunt, I think. I used to hunt in Lothering, but if I had to wager I’d suspect they’ll be using slightly different methods than my rope snares and broken traps. And different game than my hare & pheasant. Or perhaps they won’t! Who knows?

I wasn’t going to do it except that Anders is planning a particular midnight event that same week and he wants me publicly away of the city for an alibi. He thinks I don’t know what he’s planning, but I’m the one who got Aveline to turn a blind eye to any ships fleeing the harbor in dead of night with too many passengers than should be aboard. He’d realize it, too, if he weren’t so determined to only see what Justice lets him. Sebastian & Varric have said they’ll keep an eye on him, though, if I do end up going on this fool’s errand, which I suppose is as much as I could hope for. They won’t help him with the escape, but they’ll keep him alive. As alive as he’ll ever be, lately.

Tallis says I should pack something fancy for the evening assemblies at the chateau. Something that’ll make me fit in like the nobility I am. I told her I had a set of old leathers that only had a few pints of blood still caked in the creases, but I don’t think she thought it was funny. Her loss!

11th Guardian. On the road! Still chilly, with the fields tipped with frost this morning and a cold mist floating over all the hedgerows before the sun burned it away

I should never have thought it, journal, but Fenris and Aveline both have agreed to come along with me! I was certain he’d be as thrilled at the idea as Aveline when Isabela pulls out the sixth Angel of Death in a hand, but he only lifted an eyebrow and said, “I enjoy following you,” as if he didn’t know how wibbly he makes me every time he suggests the thought. He brought the beautiful black leather set he wore the evening I became Champion. I packed a sleeveless lavender overtunic and a simple white blouse I can wear over trou & boots, because if experience has taught me nothing else I know I should anticipate running for my life at least once during this venture. Aveline won’t show me, but I’d bet ten sovs on the copper it’s that blue gown she wore the night of the Satinalia feast Mother hosted a few years back.

You must forgive me, journal, if the hand is shakier than usual. The road to Chateau Haine is paved not with gold but with boulders as uneven as Carver’s temper when he’s tired.

Also, Fenris is dozing on my shoulder (an accident, I know, because if he could see the knowing looks Tallis keeps throwing our way he’d ghost straight out of the carriage), and I’d rather cut the hand off than disturb his nap.

We’re due to arrive tomorrow, which is the first night of the duke’s week-long hunting party. I expect to be thrown out by dawn.

Later, just after dinner - grouse, capers, mashed potatoes, mediocre white wine. Pretty pattern on the flatware, though

Evening at the Auberge de Tuyé, an old inn unremarkable in every way save its magnificent brick chimney and the fact that it marks our first evening within Orlais’s borders.

The only interesting events so far are that I nearly fell into the pig trough from stiff knees getting out of the carriage (a fine testament to the skills for which I’ve been hired), the elf waitress was almost uncomfortably deferent at dinner over our travel finery, and when the innkeeper gave Fenris the key to our room without a second glance, I got the most peculiar feeling in my chest that still hasn’t abated.

Got stronger, even, as I watched him read the numbers plated on the doors and find ours easily, without hesitation; stronger again as I watched him direct the inn’s boys with our valises as they brought them to the rooms with every comfortable ease. By the time he sat on the side of the bed and tugged off his boots, then ran his fingers through his hair to shake out the travel dust, my heart might have burst from how dear he’s become to me.

He saw me looking and his face changed, and it wasn’t until he asked (with no small alarm) if I meant to cry that I realized how much must have shown on my own. 

How easy it was to cross the room we share and kiss him directly on his mouth. How simple a thing, after every agony of Kirkwall & Tevinter put together, to cup his cheeks in my hands and feel his breath hitch as he smiled up at me.

Flames and pyre, but may I never take another moment for granted with him. Ever, ever, ever.

Very late or very early, not sure which

He’s exhausted & therefore snoring. I am rereading the last lines I wrote over and over again in this remarkably feeble moonlight to remind me why I don’t smother him with a pillow this very instant.

If he doesn’t stop soon I’m going to go kip on Av’s floor and not give two shits if Tallis thinks the less of me for it.

12th Guardian, near midnight. Cold

It was the blue gown, ha! We made it to Prosper’s estate just before dinner. More extravagant than anything in Kirkwall, even the Viscount’s festivals; fire dances and swans made of ice and servants proffering canapes at every turn. Fifi de Launcet & her entire hideous family are here. Dulci’s already sneered at me twice. I thought about asking after Emile, but I’ve fond-enough memories of his foolishness I didn’t want to poison them with his relations.

One of the guards thought Fenris was my manservant and tried to hustle him away from the glitterati, which lasted all of three seconds before the guard a) realized Fenris’s jacket cost more than his entire set of armor, and b) looked at Fenris’s face and read the death there if he didn’t release his arm that instant. More dangerous than that pet wyvern Prosper keeps to alarm his guests. Maker, I need to learn that trick.

Aveline mostly kept hawk’s eyes on Tallis all night. For the second day of a week-long hunt the festivities seemed over-grand to me, but Tallis hardly batted an eye as she danced in and out of the crowds, listening for any mention of the jewel and what I suppose are Prosper’s dubious motives for pilfering it. Nothing tonight, she said, though there’s plenty of time yet.

Haven’t met Prosper himself, as it happens. Apparently he’s still negotiating certain hunt-related errata or somesuch. I can’t bring myself to care at the moment, as I’m in a bed with white satin sheets, covers embroidered in gilt thread, and a shirtless elf insistently nibbling his way across my shoulder, please the Maker I’ll put down the pen, fine!

14th Guardian. Warmer today but not by much, clear skies to see doom from miles away

Short entry, as we’re to be guests of honor at the feast tonight--got the wyvern today! & an alpha, for that matter, and my left arm’s burned to the Void to prove it. Got wrist-deep in wyvern dung & Fenris laughed at me (prior to the burning), watched Tallis make a fool of herself (roughly contemporary to the burning), and nearly killed but didn’t an Orlesian baron who attempted to poach our rightly-earned victory from under our noses (post-burning, and some of his details are frankly lost by me attempting to beat my own arm off to get away from the spitting poison). Asked Aveline after if she missed being part of these fancy companies and she said as yet she hadn’t seen anything worth missing. Ha!

Regardless, Tallis wants to use the party Prosper’s throwing for us as cover to sneak inside the chateau & find the Heart. I feel as though the guests of honor vanishing mid-feast might be noticeable, but then again, I’ve snuck out more than once at these things and haven’t been caught yet. Perhaps tonight will be more of the same.

Tallis told us we ought to be prepared to do whatever it takes to get hold of the key we’ll need to reach the innards of the chateau. I told her I drew the line at my clothes coming off at any hands not tattooed in lyrium and Fenris coughed into his wine. Tallis only rolled her eyes and said she’d be happy to do the seducing if it came to that, and Aveline sighed and said she wished Isabela had come along as well. She’d have enjoyed every minute of this, the wench.

(Sidebar, before I forget--Bann Teagan is here as well. That’s who Aveline’s been spending most of her time with when absolutely forced to make small talk, & I must remember to ask him how Lothering is doing before we go. His outlook was not so sunny last time we spoke, but I have hopes.)

Agh, I’ve more to say and no time! Later, later!

Who knows what time it is

Tallis is a Qunari spy, Prosper knew we were coming, and it was all a trap. This prison cell is so old the stone has graffiti from over an age ago.

And yet, funnily enough, I’ve been to worse parties.

I’m annoyed with Tallis & writing here to ignore her. The guard outside the cell keeps rattling the bars with his pommel and asking if we’re hungry yet. I can’t say I care for his leer, though it’s better than the way Cyril de Montfort eyed me like a hock of (despairing) ham earlier. His hands are larger than Fenris’s and much colder, and when they came ‘round my waist I could feel him searching for a hem to slide under. Thank the Bride I can be fucking glib when I wish to be, & that Cyril’s fool enough to think midnight being more romantic was a good enough reason to let me go.

I think I could burn these bars to slag but I don’t know how many guards are down the hall, and I don’t know where my father’s staff is. I also don’t know where Aveline & Fenris are, which worries me more than anything.

Tallis looks miserable I’m so angry with her. Damn it. Damn me. If she’d been straightforward from the start I’d have been so much more inclined to help her with this piffle.

It must have been at least two hours by now. My left arm is killing me since Aveline has my salve. I’ve forgiven Tallis solely out of boredom

She says if we don’t stop Salit hundreds of innocent people will die. The guard suggests that if we don’t stop chit-chatting like a pair of magpies he’ll shut our mouths himself. I don’t care for this one’s attitude, honestly

Later, briefly

We’ve only stopped a moment to rest, so this must be extremely short. Fenris & Aveline found us in the prison--Tallis had made them stay behind as we crept through the chateau to avoid attention. Fenris tore out the guard’s heart as Tallis picked our lock & then he took hold of me so tight I could barely breathe, and it was the first time since the inn I felt quite myself again.

Prosper has these creatures fighting for him. Harlequins, he calls them. They fight like demons & wear masks to boot, and there’s something very skittish in the way they move. I don’t like it, though I will admit they die like anything else.

We’re deep in the caverns under the chateau. We did manage to loot the high holy fire out of Prosper’s vaults before we left, which has made me feel loads better, but we’re not out of the woods yet. Or caves, as it happens. Aveline’s shield broke in the last fight & she twisted her elbow badly; we’re giving her a moment to bind it before we continue on. I’ll heal what I can when she’s finished, but Fenris thinks I should save my strength for battle. Tallis agrees with him, which is even more irksome.

Aveline’s done with the splint. More later.

(I hope)

17th Guardian. Warmer still today, or is that just the wyvern spit

There is, it seems, a later, though it was a close thing. Prosper and his wyvern are both dead, as are Salit & the plans to steal the Qunari agents’ identities. Tallis has mucked off to who-knows-where, though not without hocking a great fat ruby at my head in thanks and exchanging a few flirts that had Fenris rolling his eyes so far back in his head he probably saw the Maker Himself. We’re in the carriage now, on the way back to the Auberge for our last stop before returning home to Kirkwall tomorrow. I’ve had to borrow clothes from Aveline’s bags, as the green slime Prosper used to guide his wyvern’s little nosie right to me has stunk my leathers to high heaven. They’re wrapped three layers deep in a trunk lashed to the roof of the carriage and I can still smell them.

Maker, I don’t even remember where I left off. We made it out of the caves eventually, though not before I found Fenris a necklace that used to belong to some Fog Warriors & he kissed me hard in one of the little rocky nooks right before the exit into daylight. Aveline was already outside, and Tallis didn’t seem to care much -- not that it would have mattered if she had, as there was enough lingering fear in his voice I shouldn’t have stopped if Andraste had come down herself to ask.

The next hours are a blur. We fought our way up the hills and down them again, mostly against Tal-Vashoth & these horrid little nesty creatures called ghasts, and then Baron Arlange must have been very determined to die as he came out at us, again, and this time there wasn’t a duke to intervene on his behalf.

Flames, I’m starving, and the dried jerky Aveline so thoughtfully brought for us on this last journey is not taking away the edge. We’ve still over an hour before we reach the inn; thank goodness this is distracting enough. I’d rather be napping, honestly, but Fenris has taken the seat across to lounge its full width, and since he was nearly gutted by the wyvern in the last fight I suppose I can’t begrudge it overmuch. Aveline’s solid enough, but her shoulder’s hard as a rock. A good thing--strong! Rock-strong. Mountain-strong. Don’t give me that look.

Anyway, we eventually fought our way back to the chateau, whereupon we discovered our intrepid Salit dispensing his little scroll directly into the duke’s grasping ...grasp. Tallis got the scroll back via a bit of trickery--good enough--but then Prosper saw the rest of us and it was all “you’ve seen too much” and “now you must die” and blah, blah, blah, here’s my raging seasick wyvern to spit up on you while I rain fiery exploding arrows from the sky, worst Tuesday ever.

In the end, though, both the wyvern and his rider went off the cliff backing the chateau’s courtyard, Tallis got her secrets returned, and Fenris got the munificent honor of lying flat on his back on the pavingstones for another quarter-hour until I could get his side closed up again. Aveline was marvelous this whole time--held all the remaining, goggling guests at bay while Tallis invented an excellent cover story (I assume, as I wasn’t there to hear it, but we also remained un-mauled by Prosper’s guards further, so it must have had some success). Leliana came out from the house too, that Nightingale from that evening at the Chantry a few months back, and as much as she obviously knew we were lying she backed up everything Tallis said and more. Tallis clearly didn’t thrill at her presence (is she truly a spy? She shows her emotions far too easily--said the tar-black pot to the kettle, I know, I know), but thanked her for the help, later, and didn’t make a single acerbic comment when Leliana and I began talking about the Lothering chantry over dinner.

(I’d forgotten she used to run the handbell choir there for a while. I was only a ringer for half a season, since there weren’t enough bells & Bethany wanted it more than I did, but I have so many fond memories of watching her on the little dais before the altar, dressed in Chantry rose & gold, her hair ruthlessly pinned back as she watched Leliana for their cues.

Leliana says she remembers her, is sorry for the loss of a sweet girl. She’s a far better liar than I’ll ever be, but I’d like to believe her.)

As it is, by the time Lord Cyril arrived to find his father dead & his house in utter disarray, most of the carcasses had been ceremonially tossed to the rocks below. Leliana and I managed to persuade him Leopold had eaten something poor and lost his mind, and in the fracas took the duke over the edge with him--true enough, given the circumstances, but as Cyril seemed both wholly unaware of his father’s attempt to ally with the Tal-Vashoth and wholly unsuspicious of our motives (aided, perhaps, by the fact that I still had blood up to my ears), he accepted our truth readily enough and turned all his attention to legal matters and the rest of his guests instead. I nearly got away without any more of his attentions, too, but at the last moment he caught me by the hand, kissed my cheek with very cold lips, and gravely told me as alluring as I might be, he thought it would be unseemly to pursue a summer romance given the circumstances. Of course, said I ad nauseum, until at last he let me go and I was able to get Fenris inside to our room where he might rest. Fenris, who is infinitely warmer even when complaining about the Kirkwall cold.

Hm. In retrospect, that may have been the fever. Ah, well.

We’ve pulled up to the picket gate before the Auberge, so I will end this here.

18th Guardian. Very cold dawn, clear pink skies

Writing this at breakfast. Fenris is still asleep and Aveline strongly discourages dialogue before she has had her second cup of coffee, so I speak to an ever-willing audience in you instead.

Fenris’s fever has broken and his side looks much better, thank goodness, though he’s disgustingly tired and prone to snippy complaints at the least discomfort. I’m of the opinion a few good nights’ sleeps & a few really good sleepless nights will get him back to his old self, but I doubt he’ll feel truly well until we’re in Kirkwall again. He’s also annoyed my arm is taking so long to heal, though I haven’t told him it’s because I’ve been using all my strength to get him whole, first. He wouldn’t thank me for the knowing, and I don’t need his high dudgeon prolonging his healing even more.

Damn all of this mess. Despite everything I do like Tallis, and despite everything I feel badly for Cyril. The only person I don’t regret killing there is Prosper, and that’s half because I got to be very clever as he died. Maker, bring me quickly back to Kirkwall, where at least I know I don’t know who’s right and who’s evil.

Ah, Fenris is up at last. His eyes are clearer than they’ve been since the weekend, so he must be feeling better. And here comes the starry-eyed waitress to bring him his breakfast, right on cue. I ought to marry him as soon as possible to ensure I’m forever included in this excellent service too.

Late evening, in the estate at last, home sweet home (or as much as it can be, anyway, though Toby’s done a wonderful job at trying to crawl through my whole self in welcome)

Asked Fenris tonight if he would have minded a summer romance with Lord Cyril. Said immediately Cyril wasn’t his taste--not nearly alluring enough, even covered in wyvern spit, and went right back to his quail. Cheeky, said I, though I know I was smiling.

Orana keeps walking out of the laundry room with scented kerchiefs pressed to her nose. The leathers may be a lost cause. Damn!

25th Guardian. Warm winds from the north today, though the morning broke cool

Varric is already drafting a series on the Chateau Haine escapades. Jewel Heart, he’s titling it (tentatively), in spite of my numerous and vociferous objections. I say it ought to be an adventure, not a romance; he says it can be both. Hmph.

Varric, when you read this (and don’t flatter your chest hair, we both know where you get your source material, and we both know Isabela’s helping), for Andraste’s sake, come up with a better title. Heart of the Many, maybe. Mark of the Assassin. Something!

14th Drakonis. Warm but very wet -- the puddles are steaming

He uses the word “alluring” forty-seven times in the rough copy. I’m going to burn his press to cinders.

16th Drakonis. Still raining

Fenris likes it.

I may never win again, but at least he makes me enjoy the losing. And Varric -- oh, who cares, you’ll do what you like regardless. Just make sure he’s in his black leathers at least once, and I’ll be satisfied.

And for the record, I demand the first print copy to be autographed for me. Consider it payment for services rendered, for my arm’s gone and scarred and if I haven’t you to tell me how wonderful I was in the scarring, how else will I know it was worth it?

(You know I love you. Don’t ever stop.)

[aion-rsa]

Are You Afraid of the Darkness?: A Hopepunk Explainer

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A brief guide to the hopepunk movement—its origins, and its possibilities.

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This feature originally appeared in Den of Geek's NYCC 2019 print magazine.

When author Alexandra Rowland (A Choir of Lies) first posted to Tumblr in 2017, "The opposite of grimdark is hopepunk. Pass it on," she had no idea how intensely that sentiment would resonate with the platform’s community and beyond.

"Initially, I was just vaguely bemused that anyone was listening to me," Rowland says, "but at the same time, I understood intellectually why hopepunk was resonating with people. Simply put: they were hurting, and hopepunk was a thing that helped comfort the hurt."

What is hopepunk? It depends on who you ask...

Rowland, quoting her essay “One Atom of Justice, One Molecule of Mercy, and the Empire of Unsheathed Knives,” says: “Hopepunk is a subgenre and a philosophy that ‘says kindness and softness don’t equal weakness, and that, in this world of brutal cynicism and nihilism, being kind is a political act. An act of rebellion.’”

To understand hopepunk as a concept it helps to understand what it stands in contrast to. Grimdark is a fantasy subgenre characterized by bleak settings in which humanity is fundamentally cutthroat, and where no individual or community can stop the world’s inevitable decline. Hopepunk, in contrast, believes that the very act of trying has meaning, that fighting for positive change in and of itself has worth—especially if we do it together.

read more: Autuonomous — Robots, Love, and Identity Under Capitalism

“I think it's a reaction against the overwhelmingly nihilistic, dystopian slant to a lot of stories in the world right now,” says author Annalee Newitz (The Future of Another Timeline). For Newitz, hopepunk isn’t a subgenre but rather “a reason to tell stories, a motivation, or maybe a narrative tone.”

“The idea is to tell a story where there are hopeful elements or maybe a hopeful resolution to the characters' struggles,” Newitz says. “I don't mean to suggest it’s all about having a happy ending, because you can have a pretty ambivalent, broody ending that still conveys hope. Hopepunk is really about showing readers that we can make it through even the most difficult situations. Even if your hero dies, hopepunk suggests that someone else will be there to take up her torch and carry on.”

Hopepunk is Curtis blowing up the train at the end of Snowpiercer, or Max and Furiosa deciding to risk everything and go back to the Citadel at the end of Mad Max: Fury Road. It’s Naomi choosing to open the Roci’s door to let in as many desperate Ganymede refugees as possible in The Expanse. It’s believing that humanity may not be inherently good, but we’re not inherently bad either, and that giving people the chance to prove themselves compassionate is a worthwhile choice.

“At Uncanny, we tend to think of this as ‘radical empathy’ or ‘radical kindness’—choosing to do the good, kind thing, even when the system doesn’t encourage that, as an act of courage,” say Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damien Thomas, the editors of Uncanny Magazine.

read more: City in the Middle of the Night Review

The Thomases contextualize “hopepunk” as a marketing term, one that has gained prominence in the last few years but that has been around much longer: “There have been veins of hope (as opposed to grimdark hopelessness) across literature for hundreds of years, and for decades within the SFF genre.”

If hopepunk, by some definitions, is nothing new, it is a cultural lens seemingly on the rise after a pop culture period ruled by cynical stories, like Breaking Bad and The Dark Knight, and in a real-world environment that has become increasingly distressing.

“We can retreat into paralysis, and pretend that's somehow pragmatic or realistic,” says Newitz. “Or we can say, fine, this is a horrible problem, let's get together with other people and try to solve any small part of it that we can. Those are the two pathways we can take through a narrative, too. We can tell stories about people who try to fix things, rather than rejoicing in their splendid destruction. It’s a way of showing other people that just because things aren’t perfect, doesn’t mean they can’t be better.”

Has the definition of hopepunk changed since Rowland first coined the term?

“The heart of [my original definition] hasn't changed at all, but my efforts to remind people of the angry part of hopepunk definitely have grown,” she says. “The instinct is to make it only about softness and kindness, because those are what we’re most hungry for. We all want to be treated gently. But sometimes the kindest thing you can do for someone is to stand up to a bully on their behalf, and that takes guts and rage.”

read more: How Red, White, and Royal Blue Hopes For a Kinder America

In 2019, hope can feel impossible. If the past few years have taught us anything, it’s that the struggle to create a kinder and more just world is one that will never be linear and will never be over. It is bigger than any one of us, and longer than any lifetime. If hopepunk is the stories that keep us trying in the long shadow of that reality, then it is a vital ingredient to the recipe for change.

So what is hopepunk storytelling? It’s whatever you need it to be... as long as what you need it to be is a way forward in the darkness.

“In hindsight,” Rowland says, “I'm just very happy–when so many people find a philosophy like hopepunk meaningful and compelling... it sorta restores a bit of your faith in humanity, doesn’t it? Maybe all is not yet lost if there are enough people around to say, ‘Oh. Yes, this.’”

Hopepunk Reading Guide

Novels

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples Uprooted by Naomi Novik Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler The Future of Another Timeline by Annalee Newitz The Calculating Stars by Mary Robinette Kowal A Choir of Lies by Alexandra Rowland The City in the Middle of the Night by Charlie Jane Anders Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse The Expanse by James S.A. Corey Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell The Sol Majestic by Ferrett Steinmetz The Book of the Unnamed Midwife by Meg Elison

Other

Our Opinions Are Correct Podcast, Episode 22 hosted by Annalee Newitz and Charlie Jane Anders

Uncanny Magazine edited by Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damien Thomas (recommendations: "Contingency Plans for the Apocalypse" by S.B. Divya, "Sun, Moon, Dust," by Ursula Vernon, and "Packing" by T. Kingfisher)

Hopepunk Author Interviews

Due to the nature of print media, I was unable to include as many of my interviewees' insightful thoughts on hopepunk as I would have liked to. Here is a guide to the full interviews from various speculative fiction authors and editors. I highly recommend clicking through to read them in their entirety.

An Interview with Alexandra Rowland, Author of A Choir of Lies

Excerpt: "By telling hopepunk stories, we necessarily have to be asking questions like, 'How do we care about each other in a world which so aggressively doesn't care about so many of the people in our communities? Who do we consider community, and is that definition too narrow? How do we fight back against the people who want to make us sit down and shut up?'"

An Interview with Annalee Newitz, Author of The Future of Another Timeline

Excerpt: "I think hopepunk is the opposite of apathy. In so many stories these days, characters are (literally or metaphorically) lighting cigarettes and enjoying the end of the world. They may look cool doing it, but it's profoundly anti-social and toxic. As soon as your characters don't give a shit about anything, you're leaving hopepunk behind."

An Interview with Lynne M. Thomas & Michael Damien Thomas, Editors of Uncanny Magazine

Excerpt: "We think that the world can always use more radical empathy and radical kindness. Culture is, fundamentally, a mix of people giving in to their most kind and least kind impulses, and much of our storytelling comes from that inherent conflict. We'd rather encourage the former, personally."

An Interview with Ferrett Steinmetz, Author of The Sol Majestic

Excerpt: "I loved it the moment I heard it. I'm an old punk who knocked around some of the Nazis that the Dead Kennedys decried in 'Nazi Punks F**k Off,' so the idea of punk utilized for something other than some Hot Topic-style cynicism flooded me with joy."

Note: The title of this article comes from hopepunk musician Frank Turner's "Blackout."

Kayti Burt is a staff editor covering books, TV, movies, and fan culture at Den of Geek. Read more of her work here or follow her on Twitter @kaytiburt.

Read and download the Den of Geek NYCC 2019 Special Edition Magazine right here!

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Feature

Culture

Kayti Burt

Nov 7, 2019

Hopepunk

NYCC

NYCC 2019

from Books https://ift.tt/32pEbOv

[sleepymarmot]

COUNTER/Weight liveblog, part 2

Episodes 23-40

Keith hasn't listened to the previous episode and Austin & Ali are cackling like “You got a big storm coming” lmao

…Look I understand the idea of making Tea an ally after the players and audience got to know her in the Kingdom game but the excuse is really thin

“A gift for his little brother” You guys are really bad at this gender neutrality thing huh

AuDy talking to Orth makes my head spin a bit now

Oh so Addax is the leader of the Angels? The person who has been watching the Chime from the shadows = the group that has been spying on them? Okay, I now feel dumb for not putting this together myself.

Wait I lost track again. Who were Jacq & Jill working for initially that gave them access to those immortality tanks? Iirc it was Odamas who had that technology and then gave Horizon access to it while imposing strict rules on them during the merge? So why does Jacqui get less fun assignments now if she was a part of the winning faction, not the losing one?

Oh cool, so Jamil wanted to hand over the virus to the Angels because they're both just from the Rapid Evening?

“A bard notices their enemy's heart isn't in the fight, so they stop fighting, fall in love” is such a specific thing. How the hell did it happen twice on the same show. Is this the new big gay trope now

Heeeey could you stop punching me in the stomach with intros

So, Jacqui was working for Horizon, which in turn was given this job by Petrichor? Still doesn't answer my question…

Do I have to mentally rewrite the entire holiday special so that in every scene on the Kingdom Come everyone is floating in zero gravity all the time?! I'm sorry but this makes no fucking sense!

The doppelganger thing started really creepy but now it just makes my head spin! Please stop it with the names, I'm too easily confused, especially with a show that has a record of passing characters back and forth between the GM and the players!

Re: that whole thing: aaaaAAAAA???

I don't understand what Austin and Jack are doing but it's pretty magical

God, the Aria/Jacqui scene is so… tender? Idk. Austin's gentle “PC's love interest” voice has murdered me again. I'm not sold on Jacqui by herself as a character but on the feelings between the two? Definitely. (Though I still wonder about Aria’s heroism vs Jacqui’s disregard for life. That’s a biiig value clash)

Okay, this was all very unsettling and I still understand so little

I really love that Sokrates' refusal to make that one nameless person take the fall, which seemed (at least to me) kinda stubborn and shortsighted, turned into a key moment, both because it demonstrates integrity, and now because that person becomes an actual NPC as an important asset in their faction

I love how the idea of moving Rigour to September comes up and everyone starts screaming and I do too! They sure love leaving horrifying surprises for the ground team to stumble upon lol

Is it too callous and unwise of me to react to Ibex overthrowing the Hands of Grace as “good riddance”?

Maryland's letter has strong Alyosha/Arrell vibes

I love the “reluctant alliance with an antagonist” trope and was hoping it'd happen with Ibex so I'm happy! Also in one of the early episodes Austin mentioned the Anders-Justice storyline and I'm glad to hear him finally deliver. (There was stuff about the pilot/Candidate->Divine influence with Order, but not about the other way around or fusion, like with Vengeance)

Okay thankfully things are clearer now (I'm reeeally glad I wasn't spoiled on this) but I still have so many questions. How were LD made in the first place? Why and how did they hide in/turn themselves into a simple robot? What are they – just software, like Righteousness, or is there some Divine hardware core inside the normal Automated Dynamics unit that nobody has noticed somehow, or is the hardware in a remote location they access through the mesh? Did Ibex know AuDy was LD the whole time – he didn't act very surprised? Why didn't Ibex rescue his brother, did he die really quickly? How will Mako be able to fog without Righteousness? Shouldn't AuDy be gamebreakingly powerful now? How and why do LD count as two Divines but have a single consciousness, are they like Garnet?

Lazer Ted feels like a fucking TAZ character lmao

The comic relief was welcome but at the same time I'm continuously like “What is AuDy thinking and feeling. Why are they acting like nothing happened. Where's the existential crisis. How do you realize you're a pair of ancient gods and just proceed with your life? Are they so impenetrable on purpose because they're a robot”. Like, it was chilling when they were suddenly chatting with Ibex like old friends, and now it's chilling that they're acting just in the early episodes.

I'm glad the robot incident made everyone realize it might be unwise to put the two charming extraverts in the same half of the party lol

Looks like they decided to permanently switch back to “he” for Cass… Probably for the best.

Jack keeps excitedly jumping at every opportunity for creepiness™. God, AuDy makes so much more sense as his character now after the Reveal

Is September just fucking Solaris now?

I think this is the first time I'm not excited to hear a faction game episode because I really didn't expect it at this point in the story. My reaction was “Wait what? Are you telling me everyone gets stuck on September waiting out that storm for a whole month?! I wanted to hear what that cliffhanger led to!” Idk, the September arc was generally kind of a let down after the intensity of the episodes leading up to it, and this further deflates the tension.

Speaking of tension and letdowns, I just have to complain… It's really disappointing when the show sets up really big dramatic hooks and then does practically nothing with them! I complained about Addax and Cass in the previous post and that point still stands. Case two: Mako and Righteousness/Voice. It's set up in a faction episode, and in the immediately following arc Mako indeed is in danger from something inside his own head, but it's a completely unrelated thing! At the end of the arc he finally finds out, but the threat immediately gets nullified with no consequences – no self-doubt or identity crisis, no diminished abilities in terms of game mechanics. Case three: Ibex himself. Out of the reasons the Kingdom game is what it is, the excuse for it happening in-universe was to give more details on Ibex, and at least half of it featured a collective effort to make him as central to the story and as threatening as possible. But as soon as that flashback ends, so, counterintuitively, does the role of Ibex as an active antagonist to the Chime -- the role which was literally just supposed to begin in earnest. So by this point I can barely recall why we were all so intimidated by this guy in the first place. I'm more like “This is a useful ally to have”. This is what I don't like about the world-ending threats like Rigor: all other interesting conflicts fade in their face.

Dang, I thought Isurus was a cooler name than Enhydra!

Sokrates, forced to shake Ibex's hand: *clenched fist meme*

Wait, I missed something, why is Rigor deep underground and has to dig itself out?

Okay, after the lore episode I'm also confused how Rigor ended up underground on Ionias after it was blown up 20000 years ago in a completely different place

I'm very distressed by the idea of Hieron as a future popular franchise!! No, it's supposed to be real when these people are talking about it!! Oh wait a fucking second, does this mean Jace's Panther was a deliberate reference in-universe?? Like you're fighting in a real serious terrible war and you model a giant war machine after, like, a thestral from the fucking Harry Potter and just call it “Thestral”??!

No, no, wait, do tell me who Cass and AuDy would cosplay!

Oh no, Rigour wants to talk to Voice(?), great

Hey Cass, your Hadrian is showing??

Speaking of Hadrian, I was caught off guard by description of Tower as a “hot young Hadrian”, for some reason Hadrian never struck me as a character who's supposed to be exceptionally attractive. But then again, I imagined him as very young until that letter to Hella, and then I imagined Cass as a young adult until I did the math, so I might just be bad at visualising Art's characters lol.

Austin is so generous and unsubtle about throwing hot gay NPCs right at the players. Too bad Mako doesn't sound as interested as Aria did.

I expected they'd find a room with one copy of everyone plugged into the mesh, that'd be even creepier. What's with the false memories though? This doesn't explain them.

So, how does this whole clone system work? How does time work? Why don't the real students like Tower or Maxine notice that there's a new guy who looks just like their friend, but doesn't know them – or, for that matter, why don't the other clones notice? Oh, maybe that's the purpose of the fake memory aura? So that Maritime-4 could continue right from where Maritime-3 left off?

When Cass saw Apokine's face I thought it meant that the humans had genetically engineered the Apostolosians and that's what “we made them look like us” meant, which would be two of my long-standing questions answering each other. And then it was just another giant mech.. :/

Wait, does Orth calling Cass “Apokine” mean that he pilots the mech now or that Sokrates died and Cass inherited his position?! I'm worried now…

I'm even more worried about Mako, because at first I of course reacted to the question about being in two places at once as “hah, Larry”, but it's probably the other thing, and on one hand that must mean that the rescue of clones was successful, but also that means that our Mako might be dead and the one in the intro is one of the clones… Considering that in the Winter post-mortem I caught Keith saying how emotional the C/w finale was for him before I started fast-forwarding in fear of spoilers, do I need to start mentally preparing to bury Mako already or what?

Speaking of spoilers… The farther I go, the less I understand the advice to skip Autumn. I thought that at least for C/w it wouldn't matter, given it's a whole different universe, but they keep referencing it, and then casually dropping major spoilers, and then referencing it again in a story-relevant way. (The Ordennan ships arrive on the screen as Rigor does, and the next episode is named “The Storm over September” and quotes Lem's poem in the description. That's really cool but I somehow feel vaguely irritated on behalf of my potential alternate self who skipped season 1.) I really hope they've grown more careful about this by now, because I'll probably not even begin Twilight Mirage by the time the next season starts, and I would really like to stay in the dark about the intense events they're all vague-tweeting about at the moment!

Why was AuDy alarmed by Voice's presence as “a” Divine accompanying Maxine? Shouldn't they be familiar with it already because of Mako? (And I don't want to even ask about the ontological difference/border between Righteousness and Voice. I'm tired and feel like a nitpicker. But just for the record, this still isn't clear.)

Well that's a sadder family reunion than I hoped for!

So AuDy does have a split personality to some degree?

Oh well. AuDy's got a fate worse than death: Liberty and Discovery, imprisoned indefinitely. Or devoured I guess, I didn't really get it. Great. Thanks. Fucking RIP I guess. Out of all ways I expected them to go, this wasn't one.

(By the way I still don't understand how the portal works. Where is this portal to? Why can't L&D fly out and take the slow way home, and why can't Rigor?)

There's still about ten minutes left in the episode and I don't understand how it isn't the finale. What's there to do for three more episodes now.

“With Rigor defeated so easily, so permanently, she thought” *Rigor screech*

Yeah, fuck Grace btw

Sounds like cultivating saplings is not a priority anymore for a certain someone… (Wait, btw, what happened to that patch/seed they left? Will it ever come back into play?)

“...Why they would put themselves into a body like yours? And I think, maybe, it's that they were curious about what it would be like for four years to feel like a long time” AAAAAA

Okay, things are better on September than it sounded initially, but still… Wtf's going to happen? Rigor repairs itself, takes over the survivors, takes off again? But what's the timeline on that? I genuinely have no idea wtf the finale is going to be about after this.

Oh, what happened to the clones btw? Did Larry manage to get them off the planet in time, despite the Minerva ships in orbit and, more importantly, Rigor? Or are they stuck on September, unable to continue reenacting the plot of Orphan Black?

From how it's been described in this episode, feels as if Liberty and Discovery are a candidate of AuDy… They didn't want a candidate but were curious to learn how it feels for the other side?

Paisley's dead-eyed, Tower's gone, and even Ibex, who is barely holding on himself, loses his ex… Everyone's love life takes a nosedive: the episode. At least Jacqui's okay… (And because of Jacqui, it was doubly sad and surprising to hear Aria still has feelings for Paisley…)