#ourinquisitorialness

[lorspolairepeluche]

3 and/or 4 from the OC codex prompts? For anybody you like (:

3) a report written by your OC’s teacher or mentor

4) a letter from your OC to their love interest

oc codex prompts (with help from @nadas-dirthalen's veilguard codex tutorial)

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

3, 11, 12, and 24 from the Rook questions!

3. What was Rook’s life before their faction?

Rook’s story is, of course, that he was adopted as a baby by an Imperial Legion commander who found him on a battlefield near Ventus, moved around a lot, trained to fight and bothered everyone while doing it, worked as a bodyguard for Minrathous’s most elite courtesans in a high end pleasure house, then for a magister when one of the courtesans he protected inherited a Senate seat from an estranged uncle, and later joined the Shadow Dragons to make a difference. 

Which is, of course, complete and utter bullshit. Except for the bothering people, there's no version of this story where he isn't bothering people.

Now, Falx Verus Mercar was a guard at the Ivory Oasis for several years, and their most prominent courtesan, Silver, did through some inheritance fuckery from his maternal uncle become a magister around the time of the Exalted Council, and he did bring his dear and trusted friend Mercar with him as his personal bodyguard. But Falx Verus Mercar himself is a fiction, and didn’t exist at all until about a decade ago, when he needed a new name and cover story for what this snarky long-haired beardy guy was doing in Minrathous when noted scoundrel and infamous frumentarius - a spy, saboteur, fixer, thug, slave hunter, general doer of dirty work for the magister who employed him, basically his job was to make his boss's problems disappear and be a problem to everyone else - Rexus Leventis had long since been presumed dead. Coming back gave him a chance to start over, and the new name and new story let him do the real work he came back to do - use the skills and knowledge gained in his youth to help Silver help people escape slavery, and grow into a better person himself - unbothered. Mostly.

11. Does Rook keep up with current events? (How aware of the situation are they at the start of the game?)

He has a local ear to the ground, as one might expect, and is quite familiar with the Antaam invasions in the east since Silver's - sorry, Magister Sisenna's - holdings are near Carastes and he actually bothers taking care of the people he represents. Traveling with Varric got him up to speed on a lot of things going on outside Tevinter, but he usually has a pretty good idea of what's going on at any given time. He just likes to seem like he's completely oblivious because it annoys people.

12. Does Rook have any family? Do they keep in touch?

He's the firstborn son of a prominent Altus family, but his father disowned him when he failed to manifest magic. His mother hated his father, so she doted on him as best and as publicly as she could - it was at her suggestion that another magister (Rexus's father's best friend and his mother's longtime lover) agreed to employ Rexus as one of his frumentarii. He also has a golden child younger brother who everyone knows was born solely to replace him, and they've never liked each other. His father was among those assassinated when Rexus's last job went bad and ended with a lot of dead magisters, including his boss, and his mother went into hiding after that. He's not sure she's even still alive. His brother masterminded the whole thing to seize power in the Magisterium and remains there to this day. He's not Venatori, and does actively oppose them, but he's definitely not one of the good ones and would have Rexus killed on sight if he knew he'd survived.

So, yeah. They don't keep in touch.

24. Does Rook have any nightly rituals before bed?

He’s very much a "fall into bed face down, arms and legs out, stay there until morning" kind of guy. He’s at least let Silver prevail upon him to use a silk pillowcase for the sake of his hair. The one hygiene thing he's always been really fastidious about is taking care of his teeth, though, so he'll do that before bed if nothing else to have an excuse to see how long he can gargle something. And how long it will take before someone tells him to stop.

50 questions for Rook!

[goingtoweather]

10 from all three categories (past/present/future) for Lawrence and Ezra pretty please!

Thank yoooou!

What did they dream of doing when they grew up? How and why did it change, if it did?

Lawrence always had a hunger for academia and wanted to get a formal education. He was the only one in his family to go to university, and with the lure of Dartmouth College nearby(ish…) had decided that he wanted to become a physician as a young teen. He wanted to help people, sure, but he also admittedly had a hunger for prestige and that was the greater lure for his pursuing an education. His dream didn’t so much change as…he feels like his whole life recently burned down so now he has…no plan or dream. A whaleship was his substitute for pistol and ball.

Ezra always wanted to be a captain. He grew up in view of all the whale ships and would watch them in the harbor whilst sitting in his father’s woodshop. And his father would tell him stories about Black captains, men who started like them. That’s what Ezra wanted and still wants. He wants his own ship and the stability that comes with it. He joined a whaler at age 13 and grew up fast. He’s spent half his life trying to achieve that dream, and he feels so close to it there’s no other option but to reach for it.

What do they always carry with them and why?

Re: the above issue, Lawrence doesn’t carry anything with him from his shore life. He’s very unsentimental about it. But he’s a big diarist. So while the journal isn’t always physically on his person, he always brings it with him. And in his spare time he’s always writing in it. Observations. Feelings. Silly little plays and poems.

in contrast to Lawrence, Ezra keeps little pieces of home. Particularly his sister’s letters, now that she can write, and drawings she sends him. He asks her to draw the things she sees in her day to day, so it doubles as a memory of his family but also of New Bedford. He’s extremely sentimental but also extremely private and doesn’t share them with anyone. Those aren’t physically on his person, though. For things he physically carries with him, he has a scrimshaw’d tie pin that has a heart on it that he made. When his sister was younger, while he was home between voyages, he asked her to whisper a little good luck charm on it. So he wears it when he feels like he needs its protection. So there’s a lil detail to look out for in past chapters or future ones. (;

How do they want to be remembered after they die?

Lawrence would like to be remembered as a good man, that is all. In his present moment he doesn’t feel like much of one and doesn’t think such remembrances are in his cards. But later on in life he thinks he has the potential of living up to it.

Ezra wants someone to tell their kids stories about him like his father did with him. Not because he wants fame or status, but because he wants to be hope for other people that one can build the life they want for themselves, against all odds.

[focsle]

I saw that I could buy someone dashboard crabs and thought of you. You're welcome <3

Oh thank you for these little guys haha!

[gaysparkler]

Send this to all your favourite moots and pass the pumpkin round! KEEP THE PUMPKIN TRAIN GOING 🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃

WAAHHH thank you 🥺🖤🎃🧡

[sunshinemage]

ding dong i'm on VACATION FOR TWO WEEKS and i'm gonna have MY NERD WITH ME IN MY HOME and also MEET THE SWEETEST FLUFFYNUG FOR THE FIRST TIME (and also have them in my home)

@ourinquisitorialness @thefluffynug i'm so HYPED

[doriansbutt]

Righteous?

inspired by @ourinquisitorialness ���s blighted inquisitor thoughts bc wow that’s so juicy how did I not think of that I love it oops

———————————

Dorian had already spent days in tears and fear and anguish. Now, all he felt was pure, righteous anger when he looked at his husband. The deep shadows under his amatus’s eyes only hidden by the sickly black ichor that covers his features…the red glow of his eyes… Dorian cannot do this again. Not again. The gods are going to pay for what they’ve done. If they are going to make him watch another loved one suffer like this, he is going to show them what it means to cross Dorian Pavus.

[goldthorn-archive]

thought this could be fun and might get me to finish some more wips since my list keeps growing.

Send me a word, any word, and if it’s in one of my WIPs I’ll answer your ask with the sentence or line it appears in.

edit: ty @alienoresimagines i saw @majorbuckyegan rp of @ourinquisitorialness's original post w the ask game

[lindira]

CHARACTER VOICE TAG!!

Thanks @thuviel for the tag!

Rules: Rewrite the line of dialogue from the person who tagged you into the voice of your OC! Pass on the tag with a new line of dialogue. ***

My line: "There's no way I'm doing that."

Aeric: "...No."

Paikea: *laughs* "You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding. I am never doing that!"

Envy: "Not gonna happen, mate. No fuckin' way." *walks away a few steps, then comes back* "Although... Could be fun? Tell ya what, give me a minute. Lemme get drunk first."

Peppermint: *smiling patiently* "My friend, I say this with the utmost kindness: No. I will not be doing that. And if you continue to badger me about it, I will hit you upside the head with my staff."

Clarity: "Um... Can I say no? I'm gonna say no. I'm sorry, just... nope. Nope nope nope. Not for me."

BA-TR15 (Beatris): "Negative. That course of action is ill-advised. I cannot perform the function you have requested."

****

Your line: "You're making me nervous!"

Tags: @ourinquisitorialness @barbex @elvenbeard @invinciblerodent @kurosmind @thessalian and anyone else who wants to do this!

[rhonuscorner]

Tropes Tier Maker

Tagged by @ell-vellan Thank yoooouuu T-T

Not much to say, it's pretty self explanatory methinks. I think if I gotta pick an all time favorite trope it's Enemies To Lovers, without a doubt 👀 That one never fails to tickle my fancies. I'll never grow bored of writing that one T-T

I'm actually picky about AUs but I do really enjoy the challenge of adapting a canon character to a completely different setting and still keep them in character as much as possible, and coming up with a backstory for them that still hints back to their canon story. Little easter eggs if you will. Not every AU works or is enjoyable to write with every character though.

I'm currently in the process of writing the same canon character in three different AUS - Medieval AU, Wild West AU and College AU and it's 👌! Haven't had this much fun writing in a long time. These three characters share a lot of similarities (obviously) but they're also completely different from each other, I love it.

Also, angst and slow burn fics, hell yeah.

Most of what's on D I don't actually hate, I'm just extremely picky and/or peculiar about how those are written (either by myself or when I read fic).

Tagging @eternallygraceful @thereluctantinquisitor @chaitea09 @ourinquisitorialness and whoever else wants to, no pressure

[felassan]

Wow, that was a fun (and tantalizing) new teaser. Honestly I'm glad it wasn't something more substantial because my biggest worry is about Bioware rushing production. But it was just enough to give us some more juicy tidbits to speculate about! My question for you: Do you think Varric being the narrator should be taken as confirmation that he'll be either a companion or advisor in DA4?

Hello, I also found it really exciting/interesting, and it’s fun to have some new things to speculate about. I hope they don’t rush production or crunch or anything as an important priority should always be to look after the wellbeing of workers and ensure a good, safe work environment. The rest of this post is under a cut due to length.

As to Varric, I’d lean to it not being confirmation that he’s a companion or an advisor, despite loving him a lot. Not saying he won’t be in it, that people shouldn’t hope for him to be a companion or advisor, or that that is an incorrect takeaway, just that I’m unsure. Varric’s voice is familiar and easily identifiable, and while there are some who aren’t keen on him, he tends to go down well with fans (so there could be a marketing reason factoring into the choice to use him). Parts of the dialogue seemed to break the fourth wall a bit, as a message from BW to the viewer (like “Hi guys here’s where we’re at, and also, it’s a new hero, not the Inquisitor”), so I wonder how much of it is literal in-world beats if that makes sense. He’s also a storyteller who has narrated DA2 and the Keep, witnessed the story of DAI, and retroactively narrated/recapped some of the story of DAO when he was ‘opening' DA2. His voice in the trailer could be a narrative-framing device, possibly for the purposes of promotional material. It also seems like they’re not yet at a stage where they want to properly-show any of the new companions or other new prominent characters, so an old hat (alongside the obvious, Solas) makes sense. Will we even have advisors in DA4? That was a DAI thing, they could bring it back or they may not.

Morrigan narrated The Fires Above, also talking about the things she’d seen (“I have seen more of this war than you can imagine”) and while she had a prominent role, she was neither companion nor advisor. Claudia Black and Brian Bloom’s voice work is very DA. 🐉 (We never ended up being able to “lead this world to its bitter end” as Inquisitor either, which was also said with emphasis in that video, so there’s an element of maybe not everything said in early-days trailers can be taken completely literally too. The DA4 trailer in particular had a conceptual feel to it, like moving concept art almost, as opposed to being more story-substantial like TFA, so it also makes me think of the concept art caveat).

That said! This tweet from the DA Twitter account references the return of Solas “and an old friend”, a comment made while posting the trailer which features known quantities Solas and Varric. Varric is most probably the old friend, from the context. It’s interesting, there’s a lot of ways he could have our backs, there’s a lot of ways to have someone’s back - directly, indirectly, combat, support, from near, from afar, etc. He’s Maevaris’ cousin through marriage, and they have a good relationship. He basically runs his own spy network and has contacts all over. He’s a Viscount, giving him access to funds and resources. He’s been connected to and involved in the ongoing comic plot (which involves red lyrium and Tevinter). And by the time of TN he is still clearly involved in some manner with the Shadow Inquisition and their plans: Gatt and the Ben-Hassrath are allies with a “dwarf in Kirkwall” who will want to hear what Irian and Vadis have to say about the enemy, and he’ll have work for them that would allow them to strike back at Fen’Harel followers. Meanwhile, the underground expedition send their report to him and it was him iirc who maneuvered to get the Carta dwarf to attend the meeting in Dread Wolf Take You. I’d guess at his involvement being a Morrigan-type role, not a companion or advisor but still prominent. Maybe he could be the new PC’s contact/interface with the Shadow Inquisition (Dorian’s potential role feels more Tevinter-plot-focused?), maybe he’s the one that seeks them out and recruits them (some mentoring?) as he’s clearly doing some recruiting, maybe he crops up part-way through for a key plotline (Morrigan or the Warden contact in DAI etc), maybe he has the new PC’s back from a mostly supporting role like resources, connections, advice, and what would functionally be like quest-giving? (Does “we” refer to the Shadow Inquisition or the new cast of companions and supporting characters? Both?) Pure speculation ofc.

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

Relativity (f. Oliver Pentaghast)

Emma Sparrow pays a visit to a friend during a difficult time, and he is not the only one surprised to learn the extent to which another can know and understand what troubles him.  Oliver Pentaghast and Thalon Lavellan belong to @ourinquisitorialness.  ~3300 words.  TW for past trauma and emotional difficulty/breakdown.

-----

Once, Emma handed Cassandra Pentaghast a sack of skulls, and received a promise in return.  Now, the Inquisitor saw to it the Seeker kept her word.  

The letter sat heavy in Emma’s pocket, threatening to burn right through it as she stepped out of the carriage.  Just as those skulls, the skulls of murdered Tranquil mages collected from dismantled Venatori constructs across southern Thedas, sat heavy in that sack as she thrust that burden, that responsibility on a woman whose order could’ve prevented it - and, for centuries, had chosen not to.  A request from the Inquisitor himself, asking for her help in bearing that responsibility, as though she had anything to offer in that regard.  Or any obligation beyond what she’d done already.  Nevertheless, she’d answered that request, and she’d come.  Following several practiced breaths braced against the closed carriage door - two short inhales through her nose, one long exhale through her mouth - to quell the sick in her stomach, she finally turned to face the looming Seeker fortress.  

Thalon Lavellan stood in front of the large wooden doors, wearing a kind, welcoming smile and ready to offer kind, welcoming words as she approached.  A momentary twitch at the corners of her mouth was all the reciprocation she offered, and she followed him inside without a word.

“You should be speaking to Sala.”

She did not look at the Inquisitor directly when she finally spoke, walking the fortress’s dark stone halls, but she felt the furrow of his brow and the stare out of the corner of his eye long before she bothered to return it.  

“And when, exactly, was the last time you saw him?” 

She didn’t answer.  Thalon cracked a tiny smile, the smugness of which told her unequivocally that he already knew what she would say.  “I seem to remember being told that ‘there is no finding that man if he does not wish to be found’.”  His face turned slightly towards her, gentleness returning to the way he looked at her alongside a strong sense of confidence that he did, indeed, know what he was doing.  “In any case, our purpose here today requires skills and knowledge you possess, not him.  That’s why I asked you to come.”

Thalon’s next step brought his feet to rest beside each other.  He turned to face the window beside him, gesturing pointedly with a nod for her to look out into the open courtyard.  Flowers and herbs grew in abundance on either side of a winding stone path, along with some small trees.  A dark-haired man in simple robes tended to them.  Or, rather, stood on the path in front of them, and every so often crouched down and held out his hand to cradle the petals and leaves with the kind of appreciation - no, the reverence one has for something precious and new.

She recognized him the moment he stood, with a wayward glance in their direction.  

“Oliver…”

Thalon glanced over at her, a half smile spreading across his face.

“Ah, good.  You do remember him.”

“Of course, he...we spoke often, in the library where he studied.”  

As often as she could spare the time, at least.  Where others found the Tranquil strange and unnerving, Emma found their calm and objective focus intensely soothing.  Oliver spoke to her of things that made sense, and asked questions with definitive answers.  Truthfully, since the fall of Corypheus sent most of the Inquisition on new paths, she’d missed their conversations a great deal.  That was where she’d expected him to be now: a library, studying, finding purpose and fulfilling it, not...watching over plants as though he’d never seen them before.  

Puzzled, she turned squarely to face the Inquisitor.  “You asked me here to assist Seeker Pentaghast.  Oliver was meant to return to the university once his service with the Inquisition was complete.  He should not be here unless…”

Emma drew in a shallow gasp, and her eyes widened with the realization.  Thankfully, Thalon confirmed her suspicions before she needed to say it.

“Yes,” he replied, noticeably more somber now.  “Oliver volunteered to be the first to undergo the reversal process, which...has been more difficult for him than we expected.”

Sala coalesced in her mind, his gentle, clouded eyes and old hands offering soft reassurance that he’d be right there with her, the whole time, he’d be there to help, and everything would be better when it was done...she would know the reasons behind other people’s smiles, she herself could be happy...and then her heart had raced, forcing her to draw more, faster breaths that never seemed enough to rid herself of the sensation that something was wrong...terribly, utterly wrong, feeling for the first time in her life that intense fear of things she neither knew nor understood.  That first, petrifying loss of control she’d been struggling to remedy ever since.

Like learning to walk, but on legs that have never worked before.

It wasn’t the same.  Not exactly, not for him.  Once, Oliver had been able to use his.  He knew what he’d been missing.

Staring blankly into the courtyard, the memory manifested in little more than a simple analogy, and a steady, rhythmic tapping of her fingers against the outside of her thigh.  

“Would you not find it difficult to walk after a decade with broken legs?”

Thalon offered a sympathetic nod.

“True enough.  I don’t imagine there is much about Tranquility or its reversal that could be considered otherwise.”  He gestured to the far side of the window, where an open door led outside, to a path that would take her to Oliver’s side.  “Given his familiarity with you and your own...experience with such things, I thought you might be our best chance of helping him.”

Shit.  It seemed she could tell Lavellan nothing about herself without coming to regret it later.  

Noting her hesitation, Thalon took a step backwards, nodding towards the door with a stern curtness that contrasted with the warm smile on his face.  Both encouraging and demanding.

Go on.

Slowly, she moved the few steps in front of him to the door, but stopped in front of it for a moment.  Her eyes dropped to her feet.  He was right, after all, loathe as she was to admit it.  Though certain she was anything but the right person for this, who would do for him what he truly needed if not her?  Who else would bring the same comfort now that he could actually feel such a thing, without also understanding the way it felt to have not had the luxury? With a gentle nudge from Lavellan at her back, Emma drew in a long breath, and lifted her eyes as she stepped forward.

Thankfully, Oliver heard it latch behind her, and was already watching from across the courtyard.  At Skyhold, Emma would approach Oliver with the knowledge that she would not easily sway his focus from his task, and simply wait patiently beside him until he was ready to acknowledge her presence with a polite nod and a trained smile she knew very well.  The sort built into routine because it is expected.  

The sort she gave him as he drew close enough to resolve details on her face.

To think, this time the smile that spread widely across his was the genuine one between them.

“Oh, Agent Harper!  It’s you!” he called out, and offered her his hand.

She hesitated to return his greeting, as earnest in its cheerful tone as it was, unable to tell him he looked well with a straight face.  The sunburst emblazoned on his forehead struck her differently now.  He wore a genuine smile now, yes, but where his old smile lay flat over placid contentment, this one masked nerves like old ropes left slack for too long, frayed and straining now that something - anything - pulled on the other ends again.  

“Oliver,” she finally said, quietly, nodding as she took his hand, “I am glad to see you.”

His smile brightened for a moment, and he broke the handshake to usher her towards a carved stone bench nearby.  “Yes, it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?”

She nodded again, a fond smile hiding the debate raging in her mind.  For all her previous conversations with him, this one presented an entirely new factor she’d not considered before: subjectivity.  The simplest of pleasantries were no longer so simple.  No definitive answers.  Additionally, in all likelihood no one had performed this ritual to purposely cure a Tranquil in ages, if anyone ever had.  She’d not been there when it happened, nor had she seen it done to know what to expect from it.  Whether or not it would be appropriate to ask.  You are certain of this, Sala?

Not at all.  Never tried before.  Can’t be certain if I never do, though, can I?

In memory, her father’s smile was not as reassuring as he’d wanted it to be.

“Will you be here long?” Oliver asked, breaking the silence before she could. From the look on his face, it wasn’t the first question he’d asked her, either.  “This place can seem somewhat dreary at times, but...this courtyard is nice, and there is a library here, if you’d like me to show you.  Not so extensive as the one at Skyhold, but it’s quiet, and they care for the books well.”

Emma smiled, and Oliver quickly returned it.  “I would, but there is no hurry.  As you say, it is nice here, too.”  

He nodded in agreement, over and over, and turned his head to look out over the courtyard, as if to reinforce his own belief of that statement.  His smile had faltered by the time he looked back.

“I...do not read as often as I did at Skyhold, I’m afraid,” he muttered.  “I try to, of course, but...anymore, the words are so...I lose track so easily…”

Oliver’s hands wrung in his lap, as if with a mind of their own, and it sent gooseflesh cascading up her arms.  Words seeming to lift and float across pages, glancing away for a moment only to find herself completely lost when she turned her attention back to her books again, and the unfamiliar tightness in her chest and flush in her cheeks at the fact that this shouldn’t be happening, it never happened to her before...

“It seems...every little thing is a distraction, anymore.  Which is...frankly, ridiculous…”  He glanced up at her with a look she supposed was meant to be reassuring, though whether to her or to him was anyone’s guess.  It was anything but.  “I was never, even before…”  

Knowing full well where that statement would lead, Emma attempted a reassuring look of her own.

“Oliver, it...”

He stood abruptly, without warning and notably without anything resembling any kind of smile.  

“No, no, it is not!  I am so tired of people telling me that when it is not ‘all right’.”  Frantic, he paced back and forth along the path, one hand clenched into a fist at his chin and the other arm pressed tightly across his body, breath seething out of him in rushed hisses.  “I thought I wanted this.  I thought this would fix everything, that if I could just be whole again it would all be...but there’s just so much...it’s too much, too much everywhere all at once and I can’t...I can’t…”

Oliver trailed off, silent for a haunting split second before he collapsed to his knees, sobbing into his hands.  Petrified, Emma could only watch.  The familiarity of it stung in a way she hadn’t expected.  His words may as well have been hers, and she may as well have been watching herself, all those years ago.  Her fingers tapped again at the outside of her thigh, harder and faster now in cadence with her heartbeat, and she silently cursed the Inquisitor for this.  For asking her here to watch as her dear friend fell to pieces while the world crumbled around him, and herself for coming to him with nothing - no empty assurances he would be all right, no insistence he was making more of a simple frustration than he needed to be.  Just...nothing.  Nothing to say, nothing to do but tap out her own heartbeat on her leg while she, too, cried out inside her mind, it’s too much, too much everywhere all at once.  I can’t…  

You can.  Let me show you.  

Another moment, and a long exhale.  

She could.  She knew how to help him.

Emma rose to her feet, knelt on the ground in front of him and reached out, waiting to see if he recoiled before laying her hand softly on his shoulder.  The other cradled his jaw a moment later, as she quietly coaxed him to look at her, then let her hand settle over his wrist.

“Here.  Focus here,” she cooed, gently guiding his clenched fist down over his chest, and stopped when she felt the pulsing artery there.  “Can you feel it?”  

Oliver blinked hard a few times.  Ragged breath still spewed out of him at a steady, brisk pace, but his eyes began aimlessly trailing around the courtyard, following some invisible thing, the outward manifestation of him searching for what she wanted him to find.  After a few moments, they fell shut, and he whispered a shaky but quite certain “yes”.  

Good.  

Emma gave a quick smile and a nod he wouldn’t see, and gently pried his hand open; not forcing his fingers apart, but gently nudging, waiting patiently for him to allow her to move them.  Trembling, he acquiesced enough for her to press his hand flat against his shirt, and laid her own over it.  Two fingers tapped along with the rhythm of his blood pumping beneath it - t-tap, t-tap, t-tap - in quick, strong strikes of the pads of her fingers against his knuckles.  

Listen, ma’eha.  Listen.

Listen.

“Listen, Oliver,” Emma continued, Sala’s words returning in her voice over the dull, muted sound of t-tap, t-tap, t-tap.  “It feels louder on the outside.  Like despair feels louder on the outside.  That is how it will help.  This means something very simple.  This…” 

She paused, pressing her palm against the back of his hand, drawing his focus.  Making it louder.  

“...means you are alive.”

After a few moments, she began to slow the pace and soften her strikes, only just, and Oliver, although he barely recalled deciding to do so, relayed them onto his chest.  “And this,” she explained, as their fingers fell over and over in time with each other, “is something you have always been able to feel.” 

With each minute decrease in pace and intensity, so too did the heaving in his chest slow, and his breath began to steady once more.  She found hers steadying with it, both in that moment and in memory.  

“You will always be able to feel this.  It is there through any pain, any sorrow, any joy, any despair, any anger...and it will be there still when all of that has passed.  Nothing else you will ever feel can be anything at all without this.  That means any time you feel something you don’t want to feel, you can feel this instead.  All you have to do…”

She lifted her hand from his, letting his hand tap out his heartbeat on its own now, and leaned forward to rest her forehead on his. 

“Is make it louder.”

Oliver breathed a heavy, but quite a bit closer to contented sigh, and his eyes flitted open.  Emma sat back on her heels, and offered him a small smile as she helped him to his feet.

“Better?”

“I...apologize, that...was terribly embarrassing,” he said, and breathed deeply once more while scanning the courtyard for anyone else who might’ve seen before returning to his seat on the bench.  When he circled back to Emma, he forced himself to smile.  “Though, I suppose I ought to be pleased that I can be embarrassed at all.”

“I know.  I know how you must feel.”

It only just occurred to her, seeing the confused and almost insulted way he watched her as she sat next to him, that he didn’t know.  That of all the times she’d spoken to him before, she’d never told him she’d once been like him.  Why would she?  The Tranquil did not speak of their conditions beyond confirming their status as Tranquil, so it had never come up, and it never would have were he not here, now, like this.  The idea that this would have been easier for him if she had dug hard into her skin.

“How?” he spat.  “How could someone like you possibly...”  His eyes widened, and he shrunk away.  He pulled his arms tightly around himself, and shook his head, quietly tutting at himself.  “Ah, that was rude of me, wasn’t it?  Forgive me, Harper.  Regardless, I should not discount your capacity for empathy; I am terribly glad to see you and you have always been...so kind.”

 Emma turned her head, moving her hair away from behind her ear.  A small, old and long scarred-over oval, like a thumbprint, rather than a prominent sunburst, but a lyrium burn was a lyrium burn, and it meant the same thing regardless of the shape of scar it left.  

From the look on Oliver’s face when she turned her head back, he knew.  He understood.

“How long?”

“A long time,” she said.  “Years ago, now.”

Hope lit up his face.  “Then you were cured, as well?  Was it...was it like this for you?”

“Not exactly.  My condition was...somewhat different, but...it did hurt.  A great deal.”  She stopped herself there, both unwilling and unsure how to say more, and well aware her purpose here was not her own comfort.  Realizing that may help less than she wanted to, however, she continued.  “I know it hurts you, now.  But...that hurt is part of what it means to be whole.  The headaches that came with my reversal still remain, but...so do a great many things I have gained since then.  Things I know now I would not give up to be rid of the pain.”  

Oliver scoffed.  Dismissively, she thought at first, but a bit of a smile found its way through shortly after.  

“Is that your way of telling me it will get easier?”

“No.  Not without effort.  Like...standing on once broken legs.”  She shifted on the bench to sit squarely towards him, one leg folded across the bench between them.  “I do not know exactly what pains you, but...I do know I would not walk so well now if I had not had help.”  Her head tilted, and she shifted again, slightly closer this time.  “I am here, Oliver, and I am willing to listen.  If you are willing to speak.”  She reached towards his hands in his lap, and curled her fingers around the one nearest to her.   “When you are ready to speak.  I will be here.”

Perhaps, the longer she had to consider it, she would soon be ready to speak, too.

After a long pause, staring at their clasped hands in his lap longer than anyone but the two of them would have been able to remain comfortable, longer than Thalon Lavellan had to spend watching through the window across the courtyard with that pleased little smile on his face before duty called him elsewhere, Oliver’s lips parted. He drew in a long breath, and held her hand tighter as he lifted his eyes.

[domirine]

Hello! I LOVE your Pride month arts and especially the ones of Bioware characters. I was wondering if there was a rationale behind giving Zevran a pan flag but giving Josephine a bi flag, when in both cases as far as I know their sexuality comes from being romanceable by characters regardless of gender? (Please note I love both characters and both identities are valid and awesome! Just curious if it was based on some specific evidence or a headcanon. More pan rep is always great!)

hi! thank you for sweet words and the question, this is gonna be a lil long and personal on account of me not wanting to say something carelessly, and because a lot in this case comes down to how i perceive bisexuality and pansexuality. since it's my pride project i can’t escape bringing subjectivity into it, as much as i try to stick to what's canon and such. (because some things are also not up for debate, of course.)

as far as my bi self subscribes to it: the "bi" in bisexuality means "two" not in "just men and women" sense, but "mine and other genders". this is a sentiment shared by a large amount of bi people i've spoken to personally as well (not all, obv, we’re not a hive mind). to me personally it also goes against the wack stereotype that bisexual people are interested only in the binary genders, not dating trans and non-binary people, etc.; 

so! unless a fictional character states themselves which label they subscribe to, and the choice is either bisexual or pansexual, i’m letting either my experience with the medium or perception of the character dictate it. 

both isabela and josie are sporting bi colours, because i identified with them as a bisexual woman on a personal level, words “pansexual” were never used, so i was not given a reason to think otherwise. meanwhile bull and zevran were sporting pan colours because - as far as i remember correctly? - “pansexual” is used for bull (by devs iirc, not certain about canon, but it latched onto my brain regardless), and with zev, it was more subjective and headcanon-y, as i think he would subscribe to the /pan/ part of identity.

before someone misconstrues: i’m not saying it’s open season unless someone states if they’re pan or bi. but i am saying it’s sometimes a personal call if i wanna include which flag. i'm sure someone out there disagrees with me, and that's fine. 

additionally, there’s enough of a “debate” on bisexuality and pansexuality as it is, and this is not an invitation to have it with me here. but that’s the train of thought i followed when giving those characters their flags. i hope it makes sense!

woof thanks for reading that whole ass wall of text!

[focsle]

Poison, parachute, and shooting star for Neris please!!!

poison: vices/bad habits? what are they? how do they affect your OC? For all he tries to divorce himself from his upbringing of Knowledge at Whatever Cost and You Are Entitled To Everything, it’s still very much a part of him. He can be a bit of a brat, and can get uppity if he feels like someone is denying his access to something or is being demeaning to him. While it’s rarely triggered, he can have a vindictive streak and is a master of malicious noncompliance (which can be highly effective when used For Good, but he sometimes also uses it for petty sabotage). He also sometimes glosses over or downplays the harm someone else has done if the result is…something he finds incredibly impressive. He’s very conflicted about the Clockwork City for instance, being all like ‘Listen I know there’s a lot of horrible inequity and its citizens can’t ever leave and it’s all kind of fucked up—and it’s not something /I/ would ever make—but it’s also soooooooooooo……..cool and amazing….’ He can tap into (or fall into) a person he doesn’t actually want to be, if the circumstances prime him for it.

parachute: who does your OC(s) trust the most? who makes them feel safe? who would they do absolutely anything for?

Neris’s fatal flaw is he puts an incredible amount of trust in people in general, as a combination of his belief that most people are inherently decent and that if they aren’t, he’s Powerful and Untouchable anyway. It means he gets screwed over a lot. And it’s never a fool-me-once situation either. He’ll get screwed over multiple times because he always has this little thought of ‘well maybe they won’t do it again!’. It’s a wonder he’s survived himself. But he’s deeply loyal to his close friends and he would truly do anything for them. He’d compromise his morals, his security, even his life for them, if push came to shove. He’d do a lot for your Oorthak and Shadow!

shooting star: if your OC(s) could have one wish what would it be? God I feel like Neris would impulsively waste his wishes and waffle over having just one. Oh oh I wish I was a famous travelogue writer. OR I wish someone would write a song about me. Oh, no, I’d like to see an actual dwemer somehow. Wait, I wish for world peace where no one ever suffers anything ever again. Wait, I know, I wish my father would actually love me. Actually, I want to try a weird food from some plane of Oblivion and not have anything bad happen to my guts. I wish I could touch a dragon…like, an alive one. Nevermind, I want Divayth Fyr to see how smart and cool and talented I am and tell me so. I wish I had a pet chaurus that liked me and lived forever. I wish the Mages Guild would apologize for kicking me out and grovel at my feet for forgiveness just a little. I wish my brother was less of a prick. Oh oh oh I wish I’d never have to sleep again.

I think ultimately he’d just wish that the people he cared about were content. But it’d take a lot of scattered rambling desires to get to that point.

[gaysparkler]

Breaking my Skyrim OCs out of the vault

I've been feeling so motivated by @ourinquisitorialness to finally share some stuff about my Skyrim OCs, so here we go!!! I've been playing since like 2020, went crazy in 2021 and finished my first game then. SO HERE THEY ARE!!!

Thele Nadunevanni

Dunmer, destruction mage, Dragonborn

(art by @rennybu 💕💕💕)

Thele, not being part of one of the Great Houses of Morrowind and showing great magical abilities, was encouraged by her parents to escape to the College of Winterhold so she would be safe and so she could continue her education without fear of being either forced into service of House Telvanni, or killed.

She travelled alone through Morrowind, to Cyrodiil, and into Skyrim, where the Stormcloaks hindered her passage into Skyrim and got her arrested. When Alduin attacks, she follows Hadvar - having now a disdain for the Stormcloaks because of their involvment in her arrest - and even after it is revealed that she is the Dragonborn, her main goal is still to reach the College.

Against all odds, she meets Hadvar again, and their reunion is sweeter than she expected it to be. What unfolds is a slow, tentative, and very caring relationship that can only truly begin once the Civil War and the dragon crisis are done.

Natheneth Fernhollow

Bosmer, stealth archer

(thank you Hero Forge)

Disclaimer: Natheneth is way less developed than Thele because I didn't play much with him AHGJDSH but here's the info I have about him.

Natheneth grew up in Valenwood, learning the craft of archery, how to make his own bows and arrows, and eventually joined a ship who needed a good marksman. He travelled the seas for some time, becoming attached to his fellow shipmates, until a nasty run-in with the Blood Horkers, who imprisoned most of the crew.

After his escape, he travels all over Skyrim, working for hire, joining the Thieves Guild. He eventually meets Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun, and becomes part of his retinue (and they perhaps, nay, definitively, kiss about it).

If you've read all of that, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I have so many Thele fics that I would love to share, if there are any interested parties on here ahghakjhgkdj these characters previously only existed in Word documents and Discord DMs so it's very exciting to talk about them now, some two-three years later 💜

[sunshinemage]

Dalish husbands, side by side!

@ourinquisitorialness' son Thalon with Nin's color, mirorring Nin with Thalon's color 🧡💚