#neria thread;

[savingthrcw]

@cornerhaunt closed starter from Neria to Solas

Leliana had been so unsubtle when pairing her with Solas for the afternoon that Neria just knew something was up with the other fellow elf Sera. Maybe she was anti mage, or a blood mage, or somehow hated elves despite being one, because Leliana was usually better at playing games and yet this one had been made obvious by her haste to keep them apart. "Wow, the whole... Warden Commander! Hero of Ferelden! celebration sure didn't last long, huh? She's clearly trying to keep me under control," she commented, amusedly, once alone with Solas, "If I haven't said it yet, it's very nice to meet you and I'm sorry you are meant to be my babysitter until my room is ready. I promise I'll do my best not to cause some kind of diplomatic incident on my very first day here. You a mage?"

[savingthrcw]

"You called your dog Kitty?" Neria asked with a widening smile, "Fantastic. Mine is named Dog. You two little buddies getting along?" she asked his dog, before looking up at Hawke again.

"Oh, mine always comes along regardless, but yeah, thanks, I'll take your offer," she accepted happily, now feeling far more relaxed in the presence of not only hers but two Mabari. She whistled at hers, maybe not the most delicate way to call him, but he barked and charged in their direction. She pulled at her hood to keep her face a little more hidden so she could follow Hawke through Kirkwall with some semblance of anonymity. But it didn't make much sense to lie to him, since he knew Anders and was helping her find a temporary place there. "By the way, I'm kinda... well known by Templars and mages alike, so I think I'll go by the name Dany this time, make things a little more quiet for myself... Do tell Anders that, really wouldn't mind having a little chat with him. Sweetroll?" she offered, taking one out for herself.

He turned to see what she'd spotted -- the dogs, of course. "Kitty!" He called to the mabari, a large and powerful fawn coated female that looked over at him, and wagged her thick tail. Giving a single loud, deep bark, she jerked her head as if to gesture, and turned to nudge Dog's muzzle with her own as if to say 'Look what I've found!'

"Mmm, yes. That's Kitty. Spoiled rotten layabout, most of the time." A complaint perhaps, but Hawke's deep voice was gruff with the affection he clearly held for the beast. "She'll see to it that yours comes along, if you'd like to move on. I'll show you where the Hanged Man is. I was probably going to be going there anyway." He always managed to end his nights there, it seemed, at the bar or up in Varric's 'suite'. Where else would he go, anyway?

"Unless you have somewhere better to go; I wouldn't suggest remaining on the streets after dark though, if you can help it."

[fereldensheroesa]

@solstice-muse-collective asked:

“ I miss  a  lot  of  things ,  but  you  have  to  keep  on  moving ,  don’t you ? ” From Neria for Cullen

"Looking back helps nothing." The answer came quietly, but firmly. Perhaps more firmly than he meant it to. He avoided looking back as best he could, but it was always there. Kinloch. Kirkwall. He remembered Neria, of course. He remembered her from Kinloch, remembered presiding over her Harrowing--- the first and only one he participated in, a waiting blade for if she failed. He remembered when they'd last encountered one another. It was a moment of pain and collapse.

He'd told no one of the things he'd experienced within the collapsing Circle... but she knew. She knew better than most. She knew his reaction, as well. How quick he'd been to condemn all mages within Ferelden's Circle just in the off chance one might be a blood mage. Did she blame him for it? For his response? He'd been a teenager, he'd been so young. But then there'd been Kirkwall...

A gloved hand rose, pinching the bridge of his nose a moment, steeling his mind. "It's... best to look towards the future. To improve and safeguard."

[da2supremacy]

You mentioned DA roleplaying and I have to ask, how is that done? Do you use your characters from games? Make up a less important oc? Self insert?

So back in the day I was on three different invionsfree forums that were more or less ran and populated by the same core of people. A couple people were on one that weren't on another but the main players were all present on each one. Honestly, I might still follow some of them on my main tumblr but it's been so many years and so many url changes that I do not know who any of them are anymore lmao. Shout out it's Dylvon here, ya'll.

Anyway the subject of the RP changed based on the forum. Picking up a canon character or Warden Origin was done with an application. It was generally first come first serve. To play an OC you just made the character and ran with it. The beauty of forums meant that many threads could be going on at once and simply placed in a time line. This could all be meticulously organized so it really ended up feeling like you were one of many moving pieces in a puzzle. You could have NPCs that weren't yet in the story actually playing out what we knew them to be doing at the time of XYZ event in the game. Like on Reckoning while the Warden group was in Redcliff we were playing out Uldred's rebellion in a thread called, so very cleverly, "Breaking Circle". The three forums were as follows.

Reckoning: A re imagining of Origins with every origin surviving and every character from the franchise somehow in Ferelden to stop the blight. It was a mix of OCs and canon characters. I played Neria Surana. There was also a Solona Amell. We split the origin between us. Neria was the one that ratted Jowan out to my boy Irving. Solona was the one that actually liked Jowan. I believe we had Solona go to Ostagar with Wynne while Neria was excused from her business with Jowan bc the timeline shifted it closer to Uldred's nonsense. I was around for the start of this one and while Tabris is and shall always be my main Warden Surana is close to my heart simply bc I enjoyed being *this* Surana. Somnium: An Au. I went to college around the time this one was starting so I actually don't remember it's premise very well. It had something to do with the fade. I was Lyna Mahariel for all of probably four posts.

I forgot what we called the forum for DA2, but it was a standard playthrough of DA2 + some OCs. I played an OC named Elain who was the inspiration for the Inquisitor that was the liveblog at the beginning to this blog . A dalish elf who was taken away from her clan by a group of handsome apostates who she quickly realized would be the death of her. Admittedly, I do not think Elain was my best work in retrospect. Inquisition improved what was a poor character to begin with. A lot of contrived paper thin justifications for why she shared my opinions about various things that by all means she should not have shared. I was also in the middle of my Conservative Deprogramming so the takes were not hot. I was the designated "unpleasant character enjoyer" and therefore the only one that could play Petrice and Marethari straight. I understand Petrice. She is abhorrent but I understand her. Defending Marethari as a fool but maybe not the devil incarnate prepared me for being a Solas enjoyer.

If I were to make one now the premise I'd probably go with is "Inquisition agents doing the war table missions" with the honored Canon character positions being Sutherland and his posse, any named Inquisition agent in a war table briefing and any given member of The Chargers. Special mentions for Rylen, Charter and whoever the hell ran the base you can take in the other Orlesian map.

As for how people RP DA NOW?

Fuck if I know man. This was all happening in 2011. I've been out of the creating things part of the fandom for years. If anyone still RPs in DA give me a call and the low down.

[savingthrcw]

Neria started laughing as soon as he figured out she wasn't actually planning to throw children at Darkspawn, and nudged him with her elbow, "Come on, I promise the only person I'll throw at those little monsters is me. And, well, I'd throw a few mages from the Circle if I had them at hand, but no small children will be harmed by your favorite mage." He looked so concerned that he was really asking for more teasing, honestly.

"It's also kinda funny that you'd think I'd do something straight up evil when I not only didn't execute the assassin sent to kill me, but befriended him. And rescued Sten." Alright, she had been ready to hit the Reverend Mother, but still. "Relax, man. Have an eggroll."

@savingthrcw asked | magic can kill. knives can kill. even small children, when launched at very fast speeds, can kill.

Alistair stared at his companion for the longest moment. She was jesting. Surely she was jesting. He wagged his finger at her in response, clearing his throat as he looked over to Zevran and Morrigan who were now just laughing quetly between themselves.

"You're pulling my leg. That's bad. Just like swooping. A terrible jest you have played on me. Don't worry. I'll get back at you. All of you. Mark my words." The man grumbled as he shakes his head a bit more. He was about to question the integrity of all that he knew, but thankfully, they were just teasing him. Now he rather felt foolish.

[eternityendures-archive]

          ---“Dogsbane and cypress.” She says, looking through the other person rather than at them, her eyes appear glazed over, but there is no mistaking the direction of her voice or the clarity of her words. “Motherwort. Do you know?” 

[inquisimer]

Feeling a bit soft for the Cullenmance. Cullen x Neria Surana Lavellan. Random Ship Dynamics: Consistently cold x A very cuddly person who just happens to be warm

this prompt was SO my brand, thank you Wren🥰🥰

some somft established relationship for @dadrunkwriting tonight

~~~

“Why do you wear this…thing?”

Neria padded around Cullen’s desk, the report she was meant to be reviewing forgotten on a side table. She plucked a stray thread and some fuzz off his mantle and threaded her fingers in the ridiculous fluff of the garment, sliding her arms around his neck and tucking her chin over one shoulder.

His attention hardly wavered. “Hmm?”

With a smooth snap of her wrists, Neria jerked the mantle from his shoulders, stepping back so she came well out of his reach with her prize. Faced with the sudden chill of his office across his shoulders, Cullen’s head finally snapped up. An annoyed grimace twisted his face.

“Why do you wear this monstrosity?” Neria repeated, swinging it around her own shoulders. It dwarfed her comically, like a child playing dress-up with their parents’ clothes. It fell to her thighs and practically doubled her girth with floof alone. Cullen’s frustration melted into soft amusement and he rubbed one hand across his tired, half-shaved expression.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve made our headquarters in the upper reaches of the Frostback Mountains.” His chair screeched against the stone as he joined her near the bookshelves.

“You don’t know if I’ve noticed?” Neria leaned back and jerked her chin up to where a beam of late-afternoon sun was sneaking down from his loft. “I’m not the one with a hole in my roof.”

“Well that’s why I need the fur,” Cullen plucked the mantle from her shoulders and returned it to his, tucking his chin deep in the fur so only his eyes peeked over the edge. “It saves Inquisition resources and keeps me warm.”

“And what of visitors to this decrepit office of yours?”

Cullen scoffed, settling back into his chair. “You’re like a furnace, love. If you weren’t so functional I’d be carting you off to the healers to treat your fever.”

“Think of your poor scouts,” Neria insisted, even as she slipped back to his side, sidling alongside the chair he hadn’t quite pulled in and tossing her legs across his lap so she could stretch like a cat up around his neck. Her face found purchase under his chin and she made a contented sound. “They can’t be expected to give proper reports if their teeth are chattering.”

“Believe me, the scouts are the last thing on my mind right now,” Cullen murmured. He tucked his chin slightly to press a kiss to the top of her head, then hooked his ankles around one leg of his desk and pulled them close enough that he could catch the half-read report in one hand. His other hand stroked down Neria’s braid almost absentmindedly, but soothing in a way that made her eyes drift shut and a sub-audible hum vibrate her throat.

Her own report stayed forgotten across the room, as she clung to the comfort of his consistent embrace and Cullen held her like the most precious heating rune that ever existed. Neria sighed.

The spat between noble houses in eastern Orlais would hold for a few hours. Someone would need the Inquisitor before long, but for now, she was content to drift, warm and loved, in this space between waking and sleeping.

[sulky-valkyrie]

Hi! For DADWC could I request the handholding prompt “not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd” for Alistair and f!Amell or Surana?

I'd intended to go somewhere else with this, but you know how characters do. I hope you like it anyway!

for @dadrunkwriting

~~~~~

"Well."  Alistair took a deep breath as he stared at the ground.  "I can't say what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that."

Neria wished she could say something to fix it.  She reached up to pat his shoulder, realized he was still wearing plate mail, then let her hand fall back to her side. "I'm sorry."

He caught the movement and smiled softly.  "Not your fault my half-sister already hates me."

"She hates the idea of you," Neria retorted.

"This is probably a terrible idea, what with the fact that we're wanted fugitives, but I think I need a drink."  He gave her a hopeful look.  "Join me?"

She snorted.  "Is this a Grey Warden joke?"

He sighed.  "Wow.  That was terrible and I'm disappointed I didn't do it on purpose."  He caught her fingers.  "So was that a yes?"

She nodded and let him guide her across the market.  It was just so big, and with the most people than she'd seen in one place since Ostagar.  Alistair threaded them through all the merchants and stalls with a practiced ease, letting her just gawk at everything.  A dwarf shouting about weapons from Orzammar, some noble shouting at a silk merchant that the blue didn't match the color of her eyes, a suspiciously nondescript man with an Antivan accent who eyed her like a piece of meat; Denerim had everything, good and bad.  It was exhilarating.  It was exhausting.  It was terrifying.

As they reached the Gnawed Noble Tavern, Alistair slowed and turned around.  "You okay?"

"I -" she stopped and waved her free arm at the throng they've just passed through.  "That was a lot."  She bit her lip.  "Of people.  No elves either."

"Right, Circle . . . not many people there comparatively," He muttered to himself as he leaned against the wall.  "We don't have to get that drink, you know."  He let go of her hand slowly.  Regretfully.

She pursed her lips.  “Yes, we do.  Your sister is a gold-digging shrew, and we deserve a chance to just sit down.”  She shifted her weight from foot to foot and winced.

“Tired of walking?” he asked sympathetically.

“When am I not?” she groused as she pulled off a slipper, shook a few stones out, then leaned against him to put it back on..

His arm wrapped around her on instinct.  “I could carry you?”  

She arched an eyebrow as she looked at him.  Maker, he was so damn tall, and it should be intimidating, but with him, it was just . . . comforting.  “You never make these offers in the middle of the Bannorn.  Or trekking through miles of Deep Roads.”

“Morrigan would make fun of me.”

Neria snorted.  “She’ll do that regardless, and then my feet wouldn’t hurt.”

“Maybe make a game of it?” he asked.  “You and Leliana and Zevran could ride Shale, Sten’s and my shoulders?”

“You just want to get your hands on that assassin,” she snickered.

“What? I -” he covered his face to hide the blush that was creeping up his cheeks.  “See, this is why I don’t try to be clever.”

“You don’t have to try, silly.  Now let’s go get that drink.”

[voxvulgi]

First names didn’t travel with legends. Most people knew Elijah simply as “The Inquisitor”, less knew him as “Inquisitor Trevelyan”, and even less knew him as Elijah. He himself was guilty of overlooking given names and remembering only surnames, particularly when it came to history and his family’s many, many friends.

So it would only make sense that Neria didn’t ring a bell…but Surana did.

And Elijah’s mind did a complete 180.

His eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he even blinked like a child taken aback by the sight of a living dragon.

“Oh— Oh, you’re—!” The Hero of Ferelden. That was The Hero of Ferelden! “Sorry— I’m so sorry. I know you just said you’re tired of being the centre of attention, but— ma’am, you ended a Blight! I think it’s fair to say I’m a huge fan, and— would it be weird if I— no, one second, sorry, one second—” Yes, he needed a second to remember how to move his body, and then he offered the lowest curtsy he could possibly manage without falling over.

Neria had to repress the sigh of relief that she almost let out. Whenever she was meeting anyone new she was generally wary as they often ended up fawning over her and acting completely ridiculous. This was why she struggled to get close to anyone. Of course it made sense though that Eli would act normally around her, he must face the same sort of attention from people wanting to get close to him.

She visibly relaxed, giving Leliana’s arm an approving squeeze before inclining her head to the other “Neria Surana, nice to meet you Eli” she smiled brightly

“I have to say, I’m glad you’re here, usually I would be the centre of attention in situations like this but now you’re the shiny new toy so I can finally stay out of the chaos” she laughed “though that does leave more time for Leliana to try to pester me into joining your organisation”

@voxvulgi

[snarky-bee]

For @m-m-m-myysurana I wrote a little ficlet for you as my first gift of the OC kiss event! From Kallian to Neria  💋 It’s a tad bit steamy xoxo

------ Pale light filtered down between trees of the most vivid lush green. The grass was soft beneath her toes and the sound of a burbling stream got louder the further she walked. It wasn’t a familiar forest, nothing was familiar, yet her feet carried her forward as if Kallian knew exactly where she was supposed to be. The sun grew brighter into a spotlight beaming down onto sparkling clear water. The banks of the stream sloped gently into the water as if welcoming her to step in. Remarkably, she could see the smooth river stones and small minnows, the current so gentle and the water so clear. She’d never seen a Ferelden river run with quite so little churned up silt and mud. Movement caught the corner of her eye. A woman was already bathing there. Light skin, and long black wet hair that clung to her back and shoulders with only the tips of her pointed ears poking out from her long locks. She was humming softly to herself, scooping water up in her hands and tilting it back over her face. She kept her eyes closed for a moment, stretching out her arms, seeming to bask in the sunlight. Kallian stopped, staring quietly, debating turning around. She thought she had been alone. How had she not noticed her earlier? Neria - the name came to her. Of course, Neria was here, she was going to meet her. “Aren’t you coming?” Neria spoke with expectation, as if she had been waiting a while. She turned her head towards Kallian, revealing the most striking of blue eyes. “Um,” and her feet tugged her onwards. “Yeah, sorry,” for some reason she apologized. Neria turned back around after giving her a smirk. “Good. About time.”

Heart pounding, Kallian stepped into the water, only just now realizing she was naked as well. Strange that she wasn’t cold. The water was gentle on her skin but not sharp and icy cold like she was so often used to. She waded closer, until the water swelled around her waist as well. “Soap?” Neria whipped her hair around as she turned, spraying Kallian with water as she offered a pale bar of fragrant soap. “Hey!” she scoffed. That teasing smirk returned to play on her features, eyes dancing with impish delight. “Oh did I do that? Terribly sorry,” she turned to face Kallian, hand on her hip. Kallian blushed, unable to stop her eyes from skating from her face down her chest. Her expression turned mischievous and she flung her arm across the water, gathering a big wave to splash the other elf with. In a flash, the sheet of water turned to ice, then shattered and fell back into the river. “Nice try. Did you think you could get me that easily,” she taunted. “Maybe,” Kallian gave her the innocent puppy dog eyes, then reached up with another hand and-Neria caught her wrist, the cold of ice magic still lingering on her fingertips. “Uh oh, now what?” “Fuck,” she huffed, frustrated and playful at the same time even as Neria’s grip tightened when she went to pull away. A thrill ran through Kallian’s body and she bit her lip, eyes lighting up. She swiped at Neria with her other hand and quickly found that one caught as well. Kallian sucked in a breath. The warmth of Neria’s body was so close to hers, and even more than being trapped by her hands, she felt trapped by her piercing gaze. She licked her lower lip. “Like I said,” Neria adjusted her grip and pulled Kallian closer, skin to skin. “Now what?” Her stomach clenched. She could see the droplets of water clinging to Neria’s body, every small mole that patterned across her fair skin, the shape of her lips and her long lashes. Unbidden, she leaned in to capture Neria’s mouth in a wanton kiss. Then she sighed against her lips as she felt Neria release her wrists and run hands up her back and then thread into her hair.  Kallian caressed her cheeks, down her sides, tugging her close. She smelled like sun and fresh water and sweet soap. She leaned into every touch, their bodies fit so perfectly against each other. Her lips parted and she deepened the kiss, letting out a small moan. Neria tasted even better. Kallian clung to her, desire coiling in her belly. After what felt like ages, they pulled apart, chests rising and falling as they both tried to catch their breath. “Wow,” Neria said. “Yeah,” she agreed, giggling. She closed her eyes and kissed her again just because it had felt so good the first time. Then again, and again. *** Kallian opened her eyes, and saw a pair of golden ones staring at her rather than pale blue. Zev! “Mmm, Zev,” she pulled him closer, kissing his full lips. “Mi amor,” he murmured. “Had quite a good dream, did you?” Her eyes went wide, and she blushed. “Maker,” she touched her lips, remembered piercing eyes. “There was this girl…” “Oh?” Zevran’s eyes lit up. “Tell me more.” *** Neria tugged the warm body closer, sighing in comfort. “Good morning,” Zevran’s voice rang softly in her ears. “Mmm, Zev,” she snuggled closer. The memory of an elven girl’s soft skin against hers lingered in her mind. “I had such a good dream.” She opened her eyes fully. “I missed you though.” She kissed him softly, happy to be in her love’s arms. 

[savingthrcw]

@altuspavus

Saying that Neria was in a good mood couldn't capture the way her heart felt so full now that she had been reunited with Leliana. In person, for an undetermined amount of time. It could almost distract her from not having gotten a hold of Alistair yet. She wasn't a fan of being introduced as 'the Hero of Ferelden' to the few people from the Inquisitor's team who were close to the balcony were they were standing, though 'one of my dearest and oldest friends' was nice. And she hadn't seen Cullen face to face yet - now that was gonna be fun. "I'd have you as our guest of honor tonight, but-" "Nah, not before I talk to your new boss myself." "My new-!" Leliana didn't continue her surprised retort and smiled at Neria's smirk, recognizing that she was being messed with. She had changed, Leliana, had gotten darker, quieter, but this was still a thing for them. "I have to make sure we've got our stories straight so I can help with... whatever... that is," she gestured at the inquisitor who was on the floor below, talking to the people there to rally them up and keep them hopeful, "I'm only here as moral support and to stab demons. Also, possibly, never as a guest of honor of anything, thanks?" Still, as the speech quickly got derailed by the curious crowd and touched the Herald of Andraste subject that she had heard about but wanted nothing to do with, Neria wondered if she was joining a cult. She did chuckle eventually, and her voice had a note of hilarity in it: "I am... so uncomfortable right now," she grinned at Leliana, "I regret so many things." "I know you don't even believe in the Maker, but if anyone asks-" "All hail to the Herald, yes, no problem. Still." She gave herself a push away from the railing, "I am going to need all of the alcohol." Leliana quickly turned to the one introduced as Dorian Pavus, whispering something that Neria guessed to be about accompanying her. To keep her out of trouble, probably. Because company had worked so well as a deterrent, ten years ago. "All the alcohol," she repeated to Dorian.

[roguelioness]

Eidolon

She hunts.

Neria does not know the Fade as well as the prey she seeks, yet she strides through its mists, sure-footed like the mountain goats. Her eyes dart around, searching, seeking even the faintest of threads that will lead her to him.

Cole steps out of a particularly dense patch of fog, his hat slung low on his forehead, one hand stretched out towards her. “This way,” he says in that low, soft way of his.

She takes his hand, and lets him guide her. The mist is cold, and though she’s dreaming, it slaps and stings at her skin in warning, and she knows she intrudes on his dreams. Her heart hammers wildly, her body held as taut as a fist, and she keeps waiting for him to step out of the shadows, to confront her, to wordlessly stare at her for several heartbeats before sending her back - or worse, before whispering those two words she hates.

Wake up.

The echo of his voice, of those words, swirl around her. She clenches her jaw, grits her teeth against the instinct that tells her to turn around and flee.

She will not. She will not!

The mist suddenly gives way, depositing her at the mouth of a dark cave. She looks around for Cole, but finds the lad nowhere to be seen. “Go,” he whispers in her ear. “I will keep watch.”

Keep watch? she wonders, even as she stumbles towards the opening. For what? She presses a palm to the walls, using it as a guide to make her way cautiously through the uneven floor, the faint hiss of her leather boots in this dreamscape far too loud for her liking.

Neria doesn’t know how long she walks for, but her patience is rewarded when she sees rays of golden light spilling onto the floor. Around her, the walls have been painted gold - a gold so bright she has to squint against the opulence of it all. But that is not what takes her breath away, or has her shuddering unconsciously with fear. It is the red splashed against it, a red so deep it reminds her of tainted crystal, a color that is clearly not meant to be present - and yet, it is. It has been used to draw images of demons and darkspawn and the wall in front of her has a large fresco of an entire city, all in red and outlined in pitch black - and at the heart of it all, looming down at her with six irregular eyes and a blood-filled snarl is-

A single ray of light floods the room, illuminating a lone figure standing, his hand pressed to the wall.

She inhales sharply.

The Dread Wolf turns.

He wears no fur, dressed instead in beautifully supple leather, inlaid with hammered metal and in a style unfamiliar to her. A high collar stops short of skimming his jaw. His face is familiar and strange and beloved, and Neria presses a fist to her mouth to keep herself from crying.

His face is set, but his eyes look so tired, and so sad.

For several moments, they stare at each other. She’s certain he can hear the rapid beats of her heart - it practically echoes in the closed space. Dust motes, illuminated by torchlight, drift through the space between them.

His stillness has her moving. She takes a step towards him, 

“You should not be here,” his voice is carefully blank.

She tries to smile, but it is a poor imitation of one. “Where should I be, ma lath?”

His face crumples for a split second at the endearment before the mask falls into place once more. “This is no longer your story, vhenan. Do not follow me. It is far too dangerous.”

Neria takes another step towards him, but before she can take a third, a barrier springs up between them. She does not flinch at it; she knows he will not hurt her. She presses the tips of her fingers to the magic there. It feels so much like the Anchor she closes her eyes and exhales, before looking up at Solas again. “No,” she says simply.

His eyes flash. “Do not be so foolish!” he hisses. She can see the panic in his eyes. “This is no longer your fight!”

“That may be so,” she agrees, raising her left arm. Her prosthetic is there, sturdy silverite with its veins of bright lyrium blue. She presses the palm of it to the barrier, willing the magic to dispel. To her pleasure, it does, and she takes the step that was previously denied to her. “But you know me better than to believe I would be content to remain hidden away, Solas.” She lets her eyes roam across the murals, gathering what information she can. A figure on the left, in red, looks like Knight Commander Meredith. The one on the right resembles Corypheus. 

The corners of his lips turn upwards the slightest bit in a rueful sort of grimaced smile. “I do.”

Her attention is drawn to the larger figures in black. She thinks they look like demons, but she’s never seen anything like it before. The sight of them sends a swathe of ice running down her spine, raising gooseflesh in its wake. They look forbidding, ominous, malevolent in ways even Corypheus was not.

And they are merely drawings. What would happen if they were real?

Solas follows her gaze. Neria doesn’t see the way his eyes widen in alarm, or the way his brows knit together in worry. She’s trying to identify the city in the mural when he’s suddenly in front of her, blocking her view. “No,” he says more firmly, more urgently. “This is not your fight, Neria. This is not your concern. Please, vhenan, stay away.” Then, before she can even think to argue, his hand is pressed to her cheek, thumb so softly, so gently stroking her skin. “I must insist you wake up.”

Her eyes fly open. The bedroll offers little protection against the hardness of the ground. She can feel stones and twigs poking into her back. Her brain feels so sluggish, yet it rapidly swirls with the images she’s seen, a hurricane of red and black and gold with Solas in the eye. She breathes in and out, letting her breath even out to a calmer pace, before she gets up and swings her feet onto the dirt.

Solas is wrong. It might not be her fight, but he will always be her concern.

[savingthrcw]

"Now, shouldn't you say something like 'I'm the Grey Wardens boss, nothing strings me' and pretend you didn't feel it? What's with the normal-person complaining?" Neria retorted, but she also rubbed her other arm in what she hoped was a reassuring move. She hoped it was, she hadn't been out of the Tower for long before Ostagar so she hadn't exactly learned the art of social interactions just yet.

"I'm sorry, like I said, I'm still far from learning how to heal people and I'm assuming you don't want me to cauterize this, so crappy tincture from Lothering it is," she continued, tending to the wound, "But their dumplings are delicious and I have one for you when this is done."

@savingthrcw asked | ❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜

A yelp rang out in the camp, teeth sunk into her bedroll as the mixture of...whatever this tincture had in it. Meredith could feel the sting for a good long moment, but soon enough the pain ebbed away and left her feeling numb. A soft whimper and other sounds of discontent leave her as she releases the blankets from her jaws.

"A little, Neria? It feels like you poured acid into my wound..." she groused out, looking up to see the other. Her vision doubled and a wave of pain-induced nausea filled her senses. "Gods...what even was that?"

[dalishious]

Hey, what armor is Amaris wearing in the second image of this post /post/618319203710173184/casual-pre-skyhold-post-skyhold-trespasser ? I’ve seen other people draw or post a similar outfit, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is and I wanna get good reference screenshots so I can draw my OWN Lavellan rockin’ those threads.

[Link] < this mod, specifically the High keeper’s Tunic; Neria’s outfit

Regarding reference... I don’t know if this is helpful or not, but here is Neria’s concept art featuring this armour:

(Am I miffed we didn’t get this superb character design? Yes, yes I am)

[solstice-muse-collective]

🔥 🔥 🔥 // your choice on who (:

I’ll do one for each of our threads, just because I can!

With Lysander, he doesn’t really know Dorian yet, he does find him very physically attractive, particularly his build in general and also the moustache (obviously)

Claudia may grudgingly admit that Aldrik has nice hair. In reality, she definitely finds him attractive and has definitely maybe had the occasional glance at his ass when he’s walking ahead.

For Neria, she definitely finds Alistair’s sense of humour and kindness attractive and for Cullen it would likely be the his commitment to what he believes in (even if they disagree on the matter she can still respect the strength of his conviction)

[higheverheir-archive]

temporary hiatus

Lissa is going on a temporary hiatus, probably til about the end of the week. I will most likely be active on Neria, and of course asks are and threads are welcome on the multimuse, too. But my Elissa muse has petered out right now. Hopefully by the end of the week, Liss will be back and willing to work with me!

Much love to all of you <3