#seriously I cannot like sera I’ve tried so hard

[dippedinmelancholy]

I’ve heard that DA:I was originally planned for the MC to only be able to be human, so idk if this is intentional or not by the devs.. .

Playing Lavellan, regardless of gender or sexuality, is just so insanely isolating and depressing, especially if you’re someone like me who latched on SUPER hard to the Dalish.

The Dalish elf gets sent to see if the humans can actually work out their problems. If they can give the mages rights, more freedom than they’ve ever known, maybe that means hope for how the Dalish are treated. But then, surprise, the Dalish tries to help a human woman being sacrificed by people who have sworn to protect the good of all, and everything goes to shit.

They’re suddenly at the head of a religion that has spent hundreds (thousands????) of years hunting them, hating them horribly, so much so that one of your first conversations with Josephine she mentions some of the rumors being Dalish making blood sacrifices. You’re “claimed” by this religion, and have no choice but to work with them. No matter what you believe, you cannot escape this. From this moment on, your entire heritage, family, and beliefs will be forgotten. You are carved in history as the history that even the “savage” Dalish can be claimed and saved by Andraste.

This could be endured. It’s horrible and icky, but on its own could be endured. No one has control over how the world perceives.

But nearly every companion either refuses to acknowledge you are Dalish and that matters to you, or they (Looking at you Sera) outright are disgusted by you, and vocalize how much they hate that part of you at every chance they can. Cassandra, though I don’t think she means to, is horrible insulting by asking if there’s not some space for one more god for you, as though they haven’t used “the Maker” to hunt and punish Dalish.

Josephine is the only one who shows softness or understanding.

But you endure. There has to be a reason, and even if there isn’t, you have to protect the world, because if not you then who will? All the while, this budding, horrible fear of what happens after. No Lavellan can be foolish enough to NOT have that fear. When the threat is dealt with, the dust settles, and the humans grow more comfortable and forget how grateful they are to you, what will happen? A Dalish will not be allowed to keep such power, wielding it over humans. Especially not if you has the misfortune of being born a mage.

And then Trespasser. Your gods aren’t gods, and even if they were, they never cared about you. You’ve spent all your life clinging to the pride that even though life as a Dalish is hard, it is worth it because you are FREE. You are not servants or slaves, you are free, and that makes the suffering worth it. But you were never free. You willingly welcomed slave markings, and the world was too shattered for any of your people to ever know the truth of their history.

And though you and your people have prayed to the gods all their lives, it’s no a single one of them that gives you the mercy of this truth. No. It’s the most feared of the gods, the unspoken, the whispered, the cursed. The Dread Wolf. The rebellion of those slave markings, in your midsts, and in my case, in your bed, in your heart.

Your world is shattered. You are dying. Everything is in tatters because you were foolish enough to try and help a human woman, when no human has ever reached a helping hand to you. Yet, the only remaining constant is that you are alone.

You are alone and you are a fool.

[shannaraisles]

11 Questions Meme

Good grief ... I’ve been tagged by @a-shakespearean-in-paris, @enchantment1385, @isharaytaoshay, AND @sassylavellen! Guys! ~laughs~ 44 questions! Under the cut, though, it’s long!

So, from @a-shakespearean-in-paris ...

What’s your favorite Disney Movie? Sleeping Beauty, always.

If you are limited to read one book for the rest of your life, what do you pick? Oh, crap. Um ... To Kill A Mockingbird. But I can’t just have one!

What is your favorite play by Shakespeare? Twelfth Night.

Do you watch the Oscars or Golden Globes? Neither, I’m not that fussed.

What is the animal that represents the inner you? (Patrononus, if you’re into Harry Potter.) The inner me is definitely a very lazy domestic kitten.

favorite historical period? Medieval, Tudor, or Regency. I refuse to choose!

favorite artist? (As in like Van Gough, Picasso, Renoir, etc.) Or favorite period in art history?  Torn between Van Gogh (Starry Night is one of my favorites), Leonardo da Vinci, and Edmund Leighton.

Do you like the Marvel movie franchise, hate it, or are you indifferent to it? What’s your opinion on the superhero genre in general? (can talk about DC too if you like) Oh, that’s tough. I generally like the Marvel movies, the casting is amazingly good. But I have a basic problem with the superhero genre - I’m British, we don’t have a culture of superheroes over here. Seriously, the superheroes from my childhood were Bananaman and Super Ted. My problem is with the increasing emphasis on lengthy action sequences (which bore me to tears), and the distinct lack of plausible consequences. I know both DC and Marvel have tried to get the consequences in there, but seriously ... the “heroes” do more harm than good with their flashy tactics. It just annoys me.

Did you ever have an embarrassing celebrity/fictional character crush? Yes. ~grins~ Okay ... Gaston from Beauty & The Beast. And it got worse when they did the live action version, because I lurve Luke Evans!

Guilty pleasure movie? The Chronicles of Riddick, or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Depends on my mood.

And the most important question of all…you go to a bar. What’s your go to drink? (if you’re into drinking?) JD & Coke. Without fail. :)

From @isharaytaoshay ...

1) Place you want to travel?  I’d love to be able to meet the lovely people I’ve made friends with here on tumblr! So ... kind of everywhere?

2) Favourite time of the day/night? I like the hours after midnight and before dawn. I’m pretty much an insomniac, so I spend a lot of time awake then, and there’s just something about the way the world feels that appeals to me

3) Weirdest accident you’ve ever had happen? Weirdest would be the time I fell over a mop and broke my clavicle. Cannot, for the life of me, work out why the mop was there, or how I fell over it.

4) Favourite comfort meal? Hmm ... fried egg and chips (fries).

5) How many places have you traveled in? Let’s see ... Ireland, Scotland, Wales, France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Austria. Eight! All when I was under 18; I haven’t been anywhere since then!

6) Favourite scar? I have a small scar on my inner left forearm that shows up under fluorescent lighting and freaks out therapists when I first meet them. Nothing sinister - Beni, my first cat, scratched me accidentally with dirty claws when he was a kitten, and it took forever to heal!

7) Favourite historical era? Tudor, Medieval, or Regency. ~grins~

8) One blog you’ve followed forever and always admired but been too scared to approach? Um ... all of them? ~laughs~ I am getting better at putting in asks and things, but I have yet to be brave and just outright drop into anyone’s messenger uninvited.

9) Your idea of a perfect day? A perfect day ... would be any day in which I don’t have to talk myself either down from a panic attack or up from a depressive moment, unfortunately. I have small ambitions.

10) Favourite meme? Um ... Why Weren’t You At Elf Practice?

11) Which fictional language would you learn? Given the choice, I’d learn Entish, or Discworld Dwarven. ~grins~

From @sassylavellen ...

1. Do you have a favorite soundtrack from a movie or a video game? I tend not to focus on complete soundtracks; I have favourites from several soundtracks, but they tend to be the sweeping scores, like DAI and LotR. Big music for big moods!

2. What was the first video game you remember playing? Lands of Lore; The Throne of Chaos. Well, I didn’t exactly play it - I sat behind my brother and watched him play it. I still can’t finish that game, but I love replaying it.

3. If you could have any kind of food right now, what would it be? Right now? I want chili and macaroni cheese, but that requires money to buy ingredients with and the motivation to cook it. ~laughs~

4. Are you a good cook? I am a passable cook. I have not, to date, poisoned anyone, and my last disaster was only a disaster because the rice was disgusting. But I always have a back up plan!

5. Do you have/want any exotic pets? I would love to have an African Grey parrot, but sadly, my slightly feral cat would not have it in the house unless it was dinner.

6. What fictional character would you love to be friends with? Torn between Nanny Ogg and Cassandra Pentaghast. Nanny, because she’s just a comfortable person to be around; Cassandra, because I think she needs a friend.

7. if you could have any superpower, what would it be? Um ... being able to understand maths and science seems like a pretty good superpower to. Neither of which make a lick of sense to me, I should add.

8. What movie could you watch and enjoy every single time? Labyrinth. And have done, on many, many occasions.

9. Favorite color combinations? Brown and gold, blue and silver, purple and teal.

10. when you play games (Dragon Age or like games) do you use armor sets that have good stats but looks bad, or armor that looks good but has bad stats? When I can cheat (and I do), I go with armor that looks good and is crap. When I can’t cheat, my characters tend to look like they’ve just climbed out of a Lost Property box.

11. Favorite genre of music? That is a hard one to answer. It all depends on my mood - sometimes it’s 80′s pop, sometimes it’s classical, sometimes it’s musicals. Never ever jazz, though.

From @enchantment1385 ...

1. What is your favorite fandom, and why? The Dragon Age fandom wins by a narrow margin. Why? Because, while I was extremely late to the party and have seen a fair amount of harshness in the community, I have been made to feel very welcome by everyone I’ve encountered and spoken to. As an anxious person, just interacting is enough to send me into a downward spiral, but you’ve all been just lovely to me. 2.  What’s your Pokemon team? I have never played or watched Pokemon, so I have no idea! 3. Favorite ‘Team’ in dragon age or mass effect? Hmm ... Origins, I tend to go for Alistair, Shale, and Morrigan (Demelza’s a rogue); DA2 is Varric, Fenris, and Bethany (Poppy, another rogue); Inquisition finds me with Cassandra, Iron Bull, and Sera (Velen’s a mage). Mass Effect? Tali/Kaidan, or Tali/Samara, hands down. 4. Favorite non Bioware game? Lands of Lore: The Throne of Chaos (showing my age there) 5. OTP? I think this is fairly obvious. ~laughs~ Canon, it’s Cullen/Inquisitor. Personally? I can’t choose between my OCs! 6. What is your Guilty pleasure? Harlequin romance novels! 7. A food you can’t get enough of? You know, I don’t think there’s ... oh, wait. Ben & Jerry’s Minter Wonderland Ice Cream. Yeah, I found it. :) 8. What’s can you see right now? Right now? My cat smugly sitting in between me and the monitor, about four inches from my face as I type. 9. Something I don’t know about you? Um ... I am the youngest of four siblings at the bottom of the biggest gap - 10 years between me and my sister. 10. Mosted loved OC, why? Most loved is probably Rory right now. She was meant to be a self-insert, but she took my best traits and ran off with them! We’ve spent a lot of time together, though. Writing her is like pulling on a comfy sweater. 11. What song is stuck in your head right now? The theme to a gameshow called Blankety-Blank, which I will not link, because I am not that cruel.

[former-cannibal-3]

Tell us about how you got into art.

WOW this got super long, I’m so sorry!

I was given a metric assload of coloring books, glitter crayons and stuff by my grandma when I was a kid. I don’t remember ever starting, it’s just always been like that. Also I really liked Pokemon, like REALLY liked it, like any other small child in the 90s. So I had some established characters to draw, like pikachu and eevee! Those were my fave to draw. Any I just never really stopped.

Luckily my elementary school still had an “art class” back then. For one whole year it had an actual room, but then it was just a little cart pushed around. Nothing really groundbreaking, but since it was fun and I liked it (and was proud of being “better” than everyone else there) it just kept going.  it was really just a bunch of kids scribbling stuff with very little direction.

My art tteacher gave me a book about drawing things realistically. I really read that book and took it all to heart. Except for the grid thing, I thought the grid thing was stupid because all it let you do was COPY a photo, and I didn’t WANT to COPY! I wanted to make my OWN stuff!

I dont remember, but I think it was in first grade, maybe before that? Maybe after idk but it was really early on. I wrote stories about a wolf who’s name was Fear, and she was a pup when the forest she lived in burned down, and she got separated from her pack. So she ended up having to traverse the desert and run into other packs who wanted to use her in different ways (usually as a disposable labor or to watch the pack’s pups while their mothers went to have fun and stuff like that) and she would have to fight them to keep going. And so on. It was pretty in depth but I never actually got them on paper except for some shitty doodles.

Here’s a quick rendition of her from memory I made just now, using some free lineart. It’s probably missing some aspects of her design, but the main thing was that she is orange, had the dark stripe, and a white tail-tip. I know, looks like a fox. Of course my actually drawings of her were crude and done in crayon.

I really liked wolves. A Lot. So Much. I guess that’s probs why I’m a furry?

Similar to that time, like at the same time as Fear, I was makign my own TCG based on my own pet-sim website (heavily inspired by neopets and one gem-creature that i think was on a yugioh card). I made a “functioning” website in front page, it really just made me happy to click through on the previews and do pointless stuff that didn’t actually DO anything because it wasn’t a live website. But it was cool and fun. I made a lot of websites on front page lol. A LOT.

I made custom buttons and graphics in Paint and just came up with all this shit to “do” and ran with it. I also made some sites that were like, just really bad personal homepages. But I was also like somewhere between the ages of 7-11, I don’t remember what age specifically? BUT anyway frontpage is really fun to work with and I basically know all of my HTML and CSS from that and neopets.

What’s really funny is… I never had a home computer! I didn’t have computer until like 2009, and we still didn’t have internet at home until like 2013-ish. I might be off on those dates a bit but you can’t expect me to remember specifics when I struggle to remember things that happened yesterday lol.

Oh yeah I found Jay Naylor art and a comic called Good Cheese and accidentally got into furries bc of it, and yeah some of it was porn and my POOR LITTLE CHILD BRAIN COULDNT HANDLE bahahahahaa im fucking kidding, it WAS porn but it’s cool and I don’t think it really damaged me. I thought it was ~wrong~ but I still printed that shit out in black and white after school to take home with me oops.

Like RIGHT after that I got into Redwall and Serenity Rose. Redwall has this huge roleplay community online, it was really cool. i never had the guts to RP tho, so I just looked at pretty art and tried to emulate it. I made my own OCs and stuff. With Sera Rose I entered my first foray into online forums, the Bubblegum Noir. Where I posted doodles I did. I was also a really fucking obnoxious teenager lol. This was middle school bee tee dubbs.

Sometime in middle school I think my focus shifted a bit from my self-driven and pokemon fuel’d vigor for creating things. I certainly still drew fanart, I got really into anime (kinda, i read loveless and then was smitten by cat eared boys forever after that lol) and started drawing Neopets related stuff by then. (Yes I still plaid neopets in middle school, hush.) I think I scanned some art in to enter into the beauty contest.

Uhm in middle school I was introduced to all sorts of New Cool Tools like BRUSH PENS and stuff! WOAH! But yeah I actually tried to do shit for realsies. I did stain glass cutting and silk screen printing after school. Neato!

In middle school I also had a “running” comic I called My Life Unlimited, and it was like the bizzare megatokyo-esque thing where I drew me and my friends having everyday normal lives. Except my cat was Literally Satan. No I mean like actually, Satan was on vacation in the Real World disguised as a cat, but OFC I found him and was like oh no a poor lost kitty, let me put a collar on him and take him home n feed him. Which, as we all know collars = ownership and eating the food of the land etc etc. Which lead to me owning Satan, literally, who could shift inbetween cat form and human-ish-looking form. Also he couldn’t open the peanut butter once and it became a running joke.

There was this whole plot with angels and demons or whatever and the demons were the good guys and angels were generally manipulative assholes and uhhhh yeah. It was dorky but I liked it. Still kinda do. I dated a “fox demon” in the comic, he had a scythe, it was cool. B3

And uh, I just drew a lot of fanart, fancharacters. My own comic stuff. 

And then I dropped all of it in high school, where I only drew furries and school assigned artwork. It was neato, the only thing I learned was about negitive space, lineart quality and VAGUELY hue and value (but not terribly in detail, and it was muddy and mucky). I made an FA account, found artists like CorrieZodori and ForcesWerwolf, and joined the Hungry Pokemon Forums (as a minor and completely ignoring ALL the rules about being 18 or over.) WHOOPS guess I was into vore. No wait, I joined HPF in… middle school I think? IDEK.

Anyway I started drawing MORE furries and more maws. And back then I was like “only oral vore, mawshots or pre-vore, no stomach internals and NO DIGESTION” but look at me now mom, if it aint Dying I ain’t Buying.

Lots of highschool is a blue of bad decisions and general fuckery. I had a cool AP art history class tho. I don’t remember jack fucking shit, sorry.

And uh… that’s where I am now???

Now I’m actually taking art seriously, and with internet access I can look for tutorials and references no problem. I’ve got a few good art books, but mainly I reccomend one by James Gurney called Light and Color for the Realist Painter. Or whatever, I cannot be assed to google it rn I’ve been typing for like an hour. Maybe two… idek. Also some good youtube chanels, sinix design, sycra, istabrak, bobby chiu and ahmed aldoori, really recommend those for learning!

Anyway I’m more aware of my shortcomings, and working hard to fix them, all while still ejoying doing what I do. Although lately I feel like I’ve gone backwards in quality and launched myself into more stress and difficulty. And I certainly do much less, and finish things less also. I wonder why… :T

UHM I’m not even sure if I answered your question i just kinda went on a tangent oops. Hopefully this is an entertaining read if nothing else?

[sassylavellen]

A little about me

and my love of Dragon Age

DA Game: - Dragon Age II. Yeah, I admit it’s not the most polished or impressive of the three, but I absolutely love the characters from II, and out of the three I have played II to completion the most amount of times.

Player Character: - Hawke. Hands down. I love The Hero and the Inquisitor but The Champion will always have a special place in my heart.

Player Character gender: - Mostly female. I have tried but I cannot make a good-looking man in the Origins creator. As for II, I’ve loved Marian Hawke too much to finish a whole round as Garrett Hawke. Inquisition is the only game I’ve ever beaten as a male protagonist.

Love Interests: - In Origins: Leliana. I’ve tried others but I always end up with her. There’s just something about her that I can’t keep away from. - In II: Merrill. To be fair, I flirted hard with Anders the first time I played II but changed my mind after he sent me in the sewers. Then Act III happened and I was glad I stopped it before it had gone further! - In Inquisition: Harding. Like my gosh Harding is bae.

Favorite Companion (based on usefulness to the party): - Origins: Again, it has to be Leliana. I always bring her for her rogue abilities. And when I learned she could stun enemies by singing. - II: Bethany. She’s the perfect healer, so I can take whoever else I want. - Inquisition: Sera. I love the bow and arrow combat style and so if I’m not a rogue Inquisitor I always bring Sera with me. (I pick her over Varric based on her specialization class.)

Favorite squad configurations: - Origins: Leliana, Alistair, Morrigan - II: Bethany, Varric, Aveline (Merrill after Act 1) - Inquisition: Cassandra, Sera, Dorian

Companions I don’t really use much: - Origins: Ogrhen, Zevran or Sten. IDK I know a lot of people love Zevran but in my first go through he betrayed me and I had a hard time trusting him after that. - II: Isabella. Seriously girl maybe if you put some pants on YOU WOULDN’T KEEP DYING. Also Carver. Screw Carver. - Inquisition: To this day I have never had Cole in my party. Now it’s like a running in-joke. I don’t really use Solas or Blackwall very much either.

Favorite characters: - Origins: Leliana and Alistair. - II: Hawke and Bethany. And Varric. And Merrill. And Aveline. Oh heck I love them all (except Carver and Anders) - Inquisition: Harding, Cassandra, Dorian, and Iron Bull. I wish Harding was a companion...

Least Favorite companion: - Origins: Zevran. I’m expecting a lot of hate for that.... - II: Carver. Screw Carver. - Inquisition: Cole. I never quite understood him.

Classes: - Rogue. It’s my favorite fighting style of them all. But I do like to switch it up, Origins and Inquisition are fun as warriors and as much as I dislike Carver, I enjoy the Mage combat system in II. Inquisition is fun as a bow and arrow rogue.

Mages or Templars? - Mages.

Favorite Mission: - In Origins it was when The Warden is captured and the companions have to rescue them. - In II, it might be All That Remains. Even though I hate it in the moment, that was the level that really made me love the game’s narrative and the emotions I felt. - In Inquisition it was Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts. The second time I played it, my Inquisitor found all the clues and exposed the Dutchess in front of the court. That felt SOOOOO good!

Least Favorite Mission: - Origins: The Sloth Demon and the endless fade puzzles. - II: The Arishok fight. Screw that fight. Just screw it. - I honestly don’t know if there’s one mission I hate... I mean, I find The Hinterlands to be annoying but I fully recognize the cause of my annoyance is a personal thing, because that early in the game I wasn’t ready to be dropped in an open world with little direction. Looking back on it I’m fine but I just jarred my experience so much the first time.

Favorite DLC: - Origins: Awakening. That was horrifying. - II: Eh... I guess Mark of the Assassin... no wait I hate the stealth mechanics. Legacy then. Tallis is cool though. - Tresspasser. BEST MUSIC SCORE YET.

Non Dragon Age Bioware Title: - Knights of the Old Republic II. Hands down. Mass Effect is great and all, but KOTOR II was possibly the greatest RPG I’ve ever played.

[gingerninja-blr]

No Respite Here

Ysmere’s head hit the pillow and he let out a low groan of exhaustion as he hooked the bed curtain with his toes and dragged it up to where he could reach it and pull it the rest of the way shut. Blocking out the rising light of dawn. 

 He had no sooner dragged the blankets up to his chin and closed his eyes when he heard Cullen’s usual four heavy knocks on his bedroom door before the door opened and the Commander called for him to wake up as he climbed the stairs. 

 He rolled onto his back and stared up at the canopy blearily and gave a resigned sigh as he rubbed his face and reached to open the curtain with a leaden hand. 

 So it had been since the day they had arrived at Skyhold. Working through until dawn, and getting to bed only to be ousted the moment he shut his eyes. The Inquisitor felt he hadn’t gotten a decent rest since he’d collapsed in the snow in the Frostbacks after stumbling, battered, defeated and wounded, away from the ruins of Haven.

  “They’re waiting for you at the war table, Inquisitor.” Cullen said. “Oh, and good morning.” He added, an afterthought as he stood waiting expectantly. 

 All Ysmere could muster in response was the ghost of a wan smirk, barely a pull at one corner of his pale lips. He leaned heavily against the corner post of his bed and pressed a hand to his eyes, breathing deeply as he willed his vision to clear of darkness and blood red sparkles as the blood rushed from his head. 

 “I’ll see you there.” He murmured sleepily to Cullen and hoped the Commander didn’t notice that the bed post was all that was keeping him on his feet. 

~~~

 He shoved the door leaving the stairwell into the Great Hall open, it seemed to take a ridiculous amount of effort. He was so weary he couldn’t even rightly recall what had transpired at the war table. He supposed it didn’t really matter, though. Cullen, Lelliana and Josephine knew what they were doing, he was just the elf with the mark that closed rifts and ran all the errands, did all the manual labour... 

 No, that was uncharitable and beneath you. A voice in the back of his mind chided. They’re working harder than you are to pick up your slack, you useless... The chiding voice continued. 

 “Ugh, stop!” He muttered, interrupting his own thoughts as he leaned against the door leading to his quarters. “You’re over-tired and feeling sorry for yourself. We’ve been through this before, just go back to bed, get some sleep. They know where to find you.” He lectured himself in a barely audible whisper. 

 “Oh, there you are, darling. I was hoping you could spare a moment, there is something important we need to discuss.” 

 He sighed inwardly and just managed to refrain from thumping his head on the heavy door before he turned to the source of the smooth, haughty voice. 

 “Of course, Madame De Fer.” He replied with his knee-jerk politeness. He felt leaden and almost drunk as he followed her up the stairs. 

 “Sit, darling, we’ve much to discuss.” Vivienne graciously indicated the plushly upholstered chair and bade him sit with a graceful wave of her hand as she took a seat on the divan that was set opposite. 

 “Of course, Madame De Fer.” Ysmere replied, starting to feel foolish in his repetitive replies, but too brain-numbed to think of anything else to say. 

 “Oh please, darling, we’re equals now, you may call me Vivienne.”  She smiled winningly, but she somehow made it sound as if his status as a social equal would not last. 

 “Thank you, Lady Vivienne.” Ysmere returned the smile none the less. 

 Vivienne’s smile broadened briefly. “Now, this alliance with the mages is all well and good, but it cannot last forever. What do you intend to do with them after all this is done? You cannot think to simply let them go free...” Was all of the conversation he could recall before he re-awoke to Vivienne’s furious glare. 

 “Had I known you would not be taking your role seriously I should never have come to this frozen waste.” Her tone was scathing. 

 “Madame De Fer, I’m terribly sorry, there is no excusing...” He started, automatically reverting to her formal title. 

 Vivienne waved him off disdainfully. “Worry not, my dear, you are obviously not taking any of this seriously, and I should have known that they would not truly put someone like you in a position of any real control. I shall talk to someone else on this matter.” She dismissed him as he jumped to his feet and very nearly bowed to her in supplication.  

 He pushed through the wave of dizziness his sudden movement caused, hoping Vivienne didn’t notice him staggering to the top of the stairs. 

 “shitshitshit... Sh-iit!” He swore under his breath with each step before slipping halfway down the stairs. His eyes bulged and he flailed his arms, wrenching his back as he scrabbled for any hold on the rough stone walls. Anything to keep himself from tumbling down the remaining steps and breaking his idiot neck. 

 His butt hit the step hard as he sat, rubbing his face slowly with his calloused hands. He was so tired he nearly felt like weeping. 

  “Ugh... So much for having any sort of friendship with her... No use apologizing. I should thank her for giving me the most sleep I’ve had all month, though...” He groaned quietly, thumping his head against the wall. 

 Ysmere looked up blearily as he heard the door open and Varric peered curiously around the corner. His eyebrows knitting as he approached. 

 “You okay, Ginger?” The dwarf put a square hand on the Inquisitor’s slender shoulder and looked him in the eye searchingly, concern clear on his broad features. 

 Ysmere sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to avoid looking Varric in the eye. “M’fine, Varric. Jus’... fine.” 

 “You wanna try that lie again? Maybe you’ll be more convincing on the second try.” 

 The elf’s shoulders drooped as he finally made eye contact and wilted against the wall. 

 “I... am so tired.” He finally admitted. 

 “Hmph, looks like tired doesn’t even come close, if you ask me. How has nobody noticed that our esteemed Inquisitor is on the verge of collapsing from sleep deprivation?” 

 “’S’not their fault. So much going on, m’jus’ the elf with the hand.” Ysmere sighed, his eyes drooping shut as he sagged against the cold stone. 

 “Ookay, Droopy. Lets get you to bed before you pass out in the stairwell, ‘cause while I probably could carry you, I really don’t want to have to.” He said as he grabbed Ysmere’s forearm and tugged him slowly to his feet. 

 Ysmere grimaced at his hand, having set it on the stair next to his ass to help lever himself to his feet. 

 “Uck... Is that... custard?” He asked, frowning at the sticky-slick coating the palm of his hand. “ Sera.” He huffed. “Wonder how hard she’ll laugh when she realizes she almost killed me...?” 

 “I think Buttercup probably meant that for Madame De Fer.” 

 Ysmere shook his head. “No, ’s meant for Dorian, he always leaves the rotunda this way so...” 

 “So he doesn’t have to speak to Chuckles. I get it.” Varric finished for him as he peered around the doorjamb, hoping there weren’t too many people in the Great Hall to see them stumbling drunkenly to the Inquisitor’s quarters. 

 Seeing only Gatzie standing in his usual place at the far end of the Hall, Varric gently took the lanky Elf by the elbow and guided him across to the door to his quarters and from there, to his bed. Even going so far as to help Ysmere undress for bed. 

 “Wait... ‘Ve got stuff t’do. Can’t jus’ go to bed.” He protested, trying to get up, only to have Varric give him a gentle shove backward into his pillows. 

 “Ah, ah. Ginger, you are going to bed, and if anyone tries to disturb you, they’ll be answering to me, and Bianca.” He stated, virtually pinning the elf in bed as he tucked the blankets tightly around his shoulders. 

 “Yanno... You’d be an excellent Dad...” Ysmere observed with a vague, dreamy smile. 

 “Me? H’oh no! Not a chance!” The Dwarf protested, turning around, but Ysmere was already dead to the world, too exhausted to even dream. Varric snorted. “Sleep tight, Inquisitor.” He murmured as he quietly closed the door behind him. 

[vannadee37]

There are currently seven four-legged loves of my life: four dogs – C.T., Dakota, Daisy, and Doc, and three cats – KitKat, Sonny and Cher. This post is really only about the dogs. As I write this, I’m thinking about what my husband and I have been through this past week with having to let our sweet, precious Daisy go, and the journey we are currently on to pick up a new four-legged rescue, who is really kind of rescuing us. 

Top: C.T. and Dakota Bottom: Daisy and Doc

First of all, let me share with you a little bit about the first two four-legged loves of my life.

The first four-legged love of my life was C.T., a German Shepherd we rescued in the summer of 1998, shortly after we purchased our first house. After almost a year of trying to deal with C.T.’s separation anxiety, I found the next four-legged love of my life at a flea market. He was a chihuahua-pomeranian mix we named Dakota. C.T. and Dakota quickly became partners-in-life, and stayed that way until we had to let C.T. go {cancer sucks, by the way, even for animals}, which was on July 5, 2010. After we buried C.T., Dakota began to grieve himself to death. I asked our vet for advice, and she said that we had two choices: (1) put him on medication, or (2) get him a new companion. Dakota’s grief and my search for a new companion happened so fast, but I didn’t want to lose Dakota after just lost C.T.

That’s when the next four-legged love of my life came around. I found three dogs on PetFinder that I thought my husband would like, and Daisy was one of the choices. He looked at all three photos and chose Daisy, whose name at the animal shelter was actually Diana. We renamed this little beagle-poodle mix Daisy.

Daisy came into our lives just when we needed her. She brought Dakota out of his depression and they quickly became best buddies. Daisy was still a puppy when I brought her home. She was born on April 24, 2010, and we adopted her on July 10, 2010. She brought so many smiles to our faces and so much laughter into our lives over the years. There is no way to measure the happiness and love she brought into our home.

Dakota showing a young Daisy who’s the boss!

Dakota looks at us while we laugh at the mess Daisy made in the floor.

About five years ago, the fourth four-legged love of my life crossed our yard and into our lives. My husband named him Doc, after Doc Holliday from Tombstone, which I think is his favorite movie. Daisy was named after that line in the movie, “You’re a daisy if you do!” We rescued this pit bull/mountain cur/boxer mix (we think) from the mean country roads, but he really is the sweetest dog. He loved Daisy, and yet, he feared Dakota. Doc, without his Daisy, is lost.

Dakota, Daisy, and Doc – all in a state of slumber

So now that I’ve introduced you to all four of the four-legged loves of my life, let me explain what happened to our sweet Daisy, and why we had to let her go on March 20th, the first day of Spring.

This past week has been very hard on my husband and I, as well as on Doc. You see, over a month ago Daisy was diagnosed with intervertebral disc disease, which is common among long-bodied-short-legged dogs like dachshunds and beagles. She had some back problems in the past and I had taken her to the vet for check-ups. Each time they would tell me that it could be a pinched nerve or a pulled muscle. Except this past week was different, in that it wasn’t a pinched nerve or a pulled muscle. It was far worse.

Back at the beginning of February sometime, after I had already left for work, she jumped or fell off our bed and landed awkwardly. My husband jumped out of bed and gently picked up a yelping, whimpering Daisy. He told me about what happened and when we noticed that she seemed to be walking like a drunken sailor, I took her to our vet, Dr. Tara.

Dr. Tara did a physical exam, then took Daisy about 10-15 feet away from me and had her walk to me so she could observe Daisy’s drunken sailor walk. She came back into the exam room and said that she thought Daisy had IVDD. Surgery was an option, if we had $4000 or more just lying around the house, which we didn’t. Another option was to keep her crated, walk her on a leash, try some alternative therapy {acupressure and massage therapy}, and limit her running and jumping. Dr. Tara then told me that if Daisy suffered another traumatic injury, that it could be life-threatening, that she could become paralyzed. If that happened, then we had 12-24 hours to get Daisy to the Emergency Vet for surgery, otherwise, Daisy would be permanently paralyzed.

That thought shook me to my core. Daisy was my world, more so than Doc {my heart hurts admitting that, but it’s true}. When Daisy was a puppy, she would whine and cry all night. I would take her into the living room where I would lay on the couch under a blanket, with Daisy nestled on my chest, and softly sing to her…

“When I was just a young pup, I asked mommy what will I be. Will I be pretty? Will I be smart? This is what she said to me… Que sera, sera Whatever will be, will be The future’s not ours to see. Que sera, sera… What will be, will be.”

{It’s my take on the theme song that Doris Day sang for her show, The Doris Day Show.}

Daisy would drift off to sleep and then I would drift off to sleep as well. I would sing that song often to my sweet Daisy, like when she would come into the bathroom and lay beside the bathtub while I bathed, or after she had to have knee surgery and had to be crated. Anytime she started to whine or cry, I would start singing to her and she would settle down. The last time I sang that song to her was last Sunday afternoon, as I sat in the floor beside Daisy, who was laying in her crate.

You see, Daisy was improving. I was walking her on a leash; we kept her confined to the breezeway and the back deck; she was absolutely not allowed to run or jump, period. I was doing twice daily acupressure therapy on Daisy’s back and she was getting her mojo back, so much so that over the past couple of weeks, she had started dancing around on her back legs, jogging {as best as she could} around the yard while still on her leash, and jumping up and down off the furniture. I tried to catch her either before she jumped up or jumped down, but I wasn’t always fast enough.

Prime example was last Thursday, when I brought Daisy and Doc back into the house from their evening potty break after I got home from work. She was following my into my dressing room, or so I thought. I heard her jump onto the chair by the picture window, but when she jumped down, I could tell just by the sound that she landed hard and awkwardly. I rounded the corner and in four steps, I had reached her and was helping her up. She didn’t yelp or cry. She just kind of shook herself off and acted like everything was ok. Little did I know, but she was seriously injured.

Friday morning, after I had already left for work, my husband noticed her walking awkwardly and leaning/falling over to her left side. It was more noticeable on Friday evening after I got home. It was far worse on Saturday morning, and by noon, Daisy couldn’t walk at all. By Monday night, we realized that her situation was far worse than what we initially had thought. I called the vet’s office first thing Tuesday morning while on my way to work. They could see her at 9:45 a.m. My husband took her to see Dr. Will, who coincidentally did Daisy’s knee surgery, and who is married to Dr. Tara. By 10:00 a.m., my husband was telling me over the phone that we had to make a decision, but that he had already made it.

“We have to put her down, and I am having her cremated because I cannot bury another dog.”

His sobs came through the phone, and I laid my head down on my doctor’s desk and sobbed as well. That jump down from the chair had broken her neck, and within 48 hours she was a quadriplegic. She was the kind of dog that needed to run, jump, and play around almost constantly. And for the last three days of her life, she was confined to a crate, paralyzed, unable to move, jump, run, or play. She could still move her head, and her eyes were at times bright, and yet other times, they were dull and almost lifeless.

She and I spent our last night together in the living room, me on the couch and  her in her crate. She would whine and cry until I leaned over to scratch her head or touch her. I got little to no sleep that night, but neither did she. When I left for work that Tuesday morning, I knelt down in front her of, planting sweet, gentle kisses on her head and nose, telling her that I loved her so much. Little did I know that that would be the last time I would shower her with kisses or stroke her head.

Daisy loved sitting on the bench, looking out the picture window.

I brought Daisy’s ashes home from the vet’s office on Friday morning. I let Doc sniff the cherry colored box and his tail set to wagging. He watched over me as I read the Certificate of Cremation, and then placed the certificate and the box in the glass cabinet under our television. I can see the box from my place on our couch, or better yet, I can see Daisy from where I sit.

Which brings me to today, Saturday, March 24th… my husband and I are traveling to North Carolina to pick up a new four-legged rescue. She is a one-year-old Australian blue heeler/Texas heeler mix named Daisy, but we are changing her name to Kate. Why Kate? Because Kate was the name of Doc Holliday’s girlfriend in the movie Tombstone. We have a theme going with our furbabies! You’ll see our newest rescue on our personal Instagram feeds {@vanessa_h_wood or @rpmgarage22}, as well as the one for our pets {@daisy_doc_kitkat_sonny_cher}.

My husband needs this rescue dog in his life as much as, if not more than, Doc. Both of the men in my life – my human and my furbaby – are lost. As much as I love and miss Daisy, I am trying to be strong for them and yet I’m balling my eyes out in private.

I like what my husband wrote in his last Instagram post about Daisy’s passing. “Please, do not pray for us. We would rather you hug an animal, treat it with kindness, maybe even let it lick your toes…one of Day’s favorite things. Maybe even ‘rescue’ one…like Daisy rescued us.”

With all my heart I believe that as much as we like to say that we rescued Daisy {or any one of our family pets}, I honestly believe that it was our rescued pets who rescued us.

Thank you for reading this very long post, and maybe even crying along with me. It may take years for my heart to heal, but I will cherish the memories I shared with Daisy.

Yours Truly, Vanessa

The Four-Legged Loves of My Life There are currently seven four-legged loves of my life: four dogs - C.T., Dakota, Daisy, and Doc, and three cats - KitKat, Sonny and Cher.

[eirlithad]

Calling on Song//Chapter Twenty-Five

Rating: M (subject to change)

Relationship: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan

Summary: Kasde Rhiannon Trevelyan was promised to the Chantry. Fate found her at the Conclave. The Maker saw her through it. As the world falls down around her, she decides to take a stand. With a little determination, and a fair amount of snark, she just might make a difference.

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Chapter Twenty-Five: In Hushed Whispers Part IV

           Despite Cullen’s assurances, Kasde maintained as healthy a distance as she could manage. Any lingering proximity to the glowing spires that grew through the plates of his armor sent a screeching song ringing through her head. More than once, she caught him murmuring to himself.

           He seemed content to remain silent, either from shame or to avoid drawing unwanted attention. His weary, bloodshot eyes flicked in her direction regularly, as if to make sure she hadn’t disappeared.

           How terrible his torment must have been, for him to look so utterly beaten.

           “You look the same.”

           She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his distorted voice. Cullen was staring at her intently, the fierce red glow of his eyes boring into her own.

           Swallowing the fear rising in her throat, Kasde forced herself to smile. “I suppose I do,” she said.

           “I…didn’t think I would remember.”

           “Cullen, tell me you didn’t go through all this just for some stupid promise.”

           “I take my promises very seriously,” he replied. “But you are correct. It was for…more than a promise.”

           She stared, waiting for him to elaborate.

           Cullen caught her gaze, frowned, then let out a dry snort. “Do I really have to explain it to you?” he asked. “No, it wouldn’t have been so obvious. I was a different man then; led a different life.”

           “I’m not sure I follow.”

           “I was too rigid.” He sighed tiredly. “Too concerned about what others would think. I let that fear dictate my actions.”

           Absently, Kasde’s fingers reached up to trace the tender flesh of her throat. The scene played out again in her head. She could see his eyes, startled and wild, unseeing. Behind the madness, there had been a very real terror. Whatever they had done to him, it had left deep, jagged scars.

           She knew well what such fear could do to a person.

           “Did I hurt you?”

           Her hand snapped to her side, feeling her cheeks heat. “I…N-no,” she stammered. “I’m all right.”

           He nodded, his quiet grunt loud in the waterlogged passage.

           They reached the end of the hall, and Cullen propped the door open. Gesturing for her to enter, he said, “You will find Sera below. I cannot promise you anything more than that.” He stepped aside, passing the weight of the door to the Herald.

           Kasde braced it open, but something prevented her feet from moving. She could not bring herself to leave him. “You…aren’t coming?”

           “It would be best if I stayed here,” he replied. “I’ll…scout on ahead, make sure no one’s noticed us.”

           Without another word, he disappeared, and the tight churn of her gut told her not to push the matter.

           She moved carefully, suddenly concerned with the loudness of her steps. The lyrium corruption appeared isolated to the upper levels. The glaring crystals growths coming in through the ceiling subsided the deeper she went, leaving the air thin and clear. With no small amount of relief, she realized she could, for the first time since waking up, breathe easily.

           The terrible itching of her skin lessened each passing moment, perhaps due to her distance from Cullen. Kasde resisted the urge to shiver. It was wrong. He was wrong, and yet her first instinct was to run to him. Cullen will know what to do, she told herself, only to recall the utter depravity of the situation. If she were honest, she wasn’t sure he could be trusted.

           She wasn’t even sure if he was Cullen anymore.

           The sound of dripping water was suddenly accompanied by a continuous, tinny clanking. Kasde slowed her approach, ears pricked. From her position on the stairs, she could just barely see the violent movement of a petite foot. Someone was kicking at the bars of their cell.

           “We walked and waked where willows…no. Where willows wail, we waited…no. Where willows…?” A frustrated shout filled the air. “Remember, stupid! They can’t take that from you.”

           “Sera?”

           The elf’s foot stilled. Wide, almond eyes, ringed in crimson, fluttered open. “No, no, no! You can’t be here!”

           “Why not?”

           “You’re dead,” she wailed, “and they don’t come back!”

           Kasde moved slowly toward her cell, voice gentle as she said, “I’m not dead, Sera. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

           “Like I’m going to believe some demon or whatever!” Sera screeched. Her voice sounded like Cullen’s; like the elf she and Dorian had discovered earlier. She backed away, pressing her body against the lyrium-encrusted wall.

           “Easy, easy. No one’s dead. Alexius used time magic—”

           Sera shook her head frantically. “Talk sense or shut it! I can’t think about him!”

           “All right.” Kasde held up her hands, making no further moves toward the clearly distressed elf. “I’m sorry if I frightened you,” she said. “I promise, it’s really me. I’m here to stop this.”

           “Stop what? Everything’s already happened.” Sera twisted her shaking fingers. “The day you died? I ran out of arrows making them pay. Then it didn’t matter anymore.”

           “It always matters, Sera.”

           “You don’t understand!”

           Kasde’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click.

           “You weren’t there anymore. He’s got demons and gods and…I’ve got a bow.” Sera’s head dropped, obscuring her face behind the curtain of her overgrown hair. “And I just…I want them to hurt!” When she lifted her head again, Kasde could see pale, pink tears cutting tracks in the dirt and grime on her cheeks. “If you’re really here,” she said, “I’ll friggin’ die to spit in their faces.”

           The Herald mustered the fiercest grin she could manage. “Bits up, face down?”

           “Won’t be no bits left when I’m through. Open me up.”

           A cursory glance at the worn joints told her everything she needed to know. Sera had been a very busy girl in captivity.

           “Stand back.”

           Bracing herself against the nearby fragments of collapsed ceiling, Kasde shifted her weight onto her back foot. It took a handful of vicious kicks, and some helpful tugging on Sera’s end, but the hinges finally gave with a pitiful squeal.

           “Best get moving. Someone’s like to have heard that.”

           Sera reached the top of the stairs first, and let out a blood-curdling scream. She rounded on her heels, barreling straight into Kasde and very nearly sending them both back down the steps in a cursing heap.

           “Sera, what?” Following the elf’s frightened eyes, she muttered, “Shit.”

           Cullen stood at the opposite end of the hall, alone. Blood stained the right side of his face, strengthening the glow of his red, red eyes.

           “Frigging bastard!”

           Sera lunged at the Commander, thankfully unarmed. Kasde was a second too fast, and managed to wrap her arms about the elf’s middle. Spitting and cursing, Sera’s arms flailed. Her fingers clawed through the air, and it was pure luck that the Herald avoided being struck.

           Cullen said nothing, watching things unfold through miserable eyes.

           “Sera, stop!” Kasde howled. Her boots slid on the wet stone, making the difficult matter of restraining her friend monumentally harder.

           Another stream of obscenities poured from Sera’s mouth and she kicked her legs into the air. “Useless, piss-bucket, friggin’ sack of rot-sucking—”

           “Sera! Enough!” Gritting her teeth, Kasde hauled the squirming woman back.

          Sera was having none of it. She wriggled free of the Herald’s grasp, pausing only to take a swing at her head. Kasde managed to duck, and planted herself between the elf and Cullen. Her breath came in heavy, ragged puffs.

          “Friggin’ coward!”

          “Sera!”

          “No, you weren’t there! You don’t know, so you don’t get to tell me ‘enough!’”

          Kasde swiped an angry hand through the air. “You’re right, I wasn’t, but this needs to stop. Cullen is trying to help. He’s on our—”

          Stars exploded behind her eyes, and her head snapped to the side from the force of the blow. Her teeth cut into her cheek, spilling the taste of copper across her tongue.

          Sera stood before her, elbow still crooked, breath hissing out from between her clenched teeth. Her heaving shoulders rose and fell like crashing storm-waves in the dim light.

          “You weren’t there,” she repeated. “You don’t know.”

          Gingerly massaging her smarting cheek, Kasde straightened. “Then why don’t you tell me, Sera.”

          “He’s one of them!” The elf gnashed her teeth. “The red ones. Every one of ‘em stuck up in their Elder One.”

          Kasde shook her head. That can’t be.

          “The only reason Jackboot’s helping is for them.”

          “Sera, that’s not—”

          She leapt toward Cullen, screaming, “Shut your mouth, piss-rag! I wasn’t frigging talkin’ to you!”

          “Sera, he helped me find you!” Kasde insisted. “Why would he do that? Think!”

          “Yeah, great! So they can send us all to be butchered! It’s not hard to figure out if you’d stop being stupid!” The elf fisted her hands in her hair, letting out an aggravated growl. “I was fine in my cell. Happy, even! They let me alone there! Least I can get my licks in before I friggin’ eat it.”

          The Herald blinked several times, unsure what to say. Her eyes snapped rapidly between her friends. For long moments, nothing made sense. Her brain sifted through the details, but try as she might, none of the pieces wanted to fit.

          “Sera,” she finally asked, “why do you think Cullen is one of them?”

          “Because!” Sera’s tone was definite, as though that single word explained everything. “He gave up.”

          Cullen’s eyes hastily dropped the floor. If shame reddened his face, the glow of the lyrium in his skin hid it well.

          “He believed them. When they said you died? He believed them! Gave up, quit, threw in the friggin’ towel. Coward.”

          “You said yourself I was dead,” Kasde recalled.

          Sera shook her head defiantly. “That’s not the same!” she hollered. “I still tried! Ran out of arrows, remember? This one just keeled over and cried about it.”

          Cullen said nothing in his own defense. He made no sound, not even to shuffle his feet the way he did when he was nervous. Was he admitting it? Or was he too broken to do anything but take the abuse?

          “The only reason they let him walk around is he listens,” Sera went on. “They fed him the red stuff, and now he hears them. Completely mental, that one.”

          Tears burned in Kasde’s eyes as she watched him; waited for him to say something – anything. “Cullen…why?”

          “Don’t you get it?” Sera stomped her feet. “You died, Herald. Knew he wasn’t gonna bring you back. Weren’t nothing to bring back. Didn’t matter. It was you. Forever and all that rubbish, right? ‘Cept they didn’t let you have forever, did they, Jackboot?”

          Kasde looked to the book hanging from his side, glanced back at him. The pieces snapped together.

          “It was for…more than a promise,” he’d said.

          Quietly, she approached him, lifting his chin just enough that she could consider his face. “Cullen, is that true?”

          A wry smile tugged at his scarred lips, and warmth pooled in his eyes. “Were you not listening? I told you as much myself.”

          “No,” she snapped, even as the tears streaked down her cheeks, “you didn’t, dummy.” She let out a shaky breath. “Why did you have to go and do something like that?”

          “Hush.” His gloved hands cupped her face, much as she had not long before. The leather was soft as his thumbs swiped across her cheeks. “No tears, My Lady,” he whispered.

          Sera gagged dramatically. “Get a room you two. On second thought, don’t. Don’t need you two gettin’ your nasty on where I can hear it.”

          Kasde blushed entirely too hard.

          “Oh, phwoar, don’t get your knickers all twisted,” the elf grumbled. “Oi, Jackboot, you good on keepin’ it together in there?” She tapped the side of her head with a finger.

          “I will do my best.”

          Cullen gave the Herald a final, reassuring smile before bending over to scoop an item off the floor. He hefted a delicate, albeit aged, bow, tossing it and a dirty buckskin quiver into Sera’s outstretched hands. Light filled her eyes as she counted the fletchings.

          A familiar, hysterical giggle rose in her throat as she tested the bowstring. “You're not so bad after all,” she muttered. “You lookit me funny, I’ll arrow you in the face.”

          Cullen nodded solemnly. “I will take you to the magister,” he vowed, “but we have one last stop along the way.”

          With a single, bounding stride, Sera rounded the corner after him, humming a dark, lilting melody as she went. Kasde was left alone, thumbing her daggers, fighting down the urge to trace the burning path of Cullen’s fingers.

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