#so i feel like what would make most sense is a divine vivienne!

[oopsallmabari]

also quick question. if absolution is post-trespasser given the inquisition has disbanded. and cass seems to be at skyhold. and leliana seems to be at skyhold fairly regularly. does this mean we’re dealing with a divine vivienne? hmmm.

[inquisitorismone]

narrative reasons why cured tranquils should be immune to possession

ignoring magical canon because 1) it's extremely inconsistent and 2) bioware just retcons it whenever they need to. but NARRATIVELY, there are compelling reasons why a cured tranquil should be immune to possession/becoming an abomination:

seekers are. seekers are immune from possession! all seekers! they have other talents, like the same abilities as templars to control magic, but because those abilities can also be generated via lyrium consumption that's likely just something to do with opening up one's connection to the fade. the unique power is a resistance to possession, since we know for a fact that templars can be possessed. where does that come from? if it were connection to the fade, then templars or mages might have found the same ability. the unique difference in seeker training is the vigil of tranquility - and its reversal. idk what the justification is, maybe it's like closing a steel trap to the fade then reopening it gives the person more control over what can come through inside of them, but either way - there's narrative precedence.

it builds upon the theme of corruption/control within the chantry. we KNOW that the chantry failed the circles; that was the point of da2, regardless of how you feel about anders's actions. this was reiterated in inquisition: the chantry failed to bring a peace between mages and templars, failed to act in a moment of crisis, and fell apart when challenged by the inquisition. the book of secrets cassandra gets from the lord seeker is a chantry book, and reveals that the chantry knew how to reverse tranquility all along (i mean the institution of the chantry, not necessarily every member or even grand cleric). the chantry keeps its grip on mages/the circle because it's convinced a whole lot of them that they need the circle. vivienne is the perfect example of this, but pro-circle mages can be found everywhere. it is the safest place; mages can learn with other mages how to avoid possession, and they can be watched over by templars in case they do become abominations. so imagine a world in which the threat of becoming an abomination no longer exists. what hold does the chantry have over mages? what justification for the circle do they have? i don't mean to imply that the modern chantry withholds the tranquil cure for purposes of control, because the modern chantry already thinks it has full control. but a long time ago, some divine and her seekers chose to ensure that mages needed circles, and needed templars. possibly this was around the height of the tevinter imperium, when it was decided that mages untethered would break that principle rule: "magic exists to serve man, not to rule over him"

it complicates the divine's decisions. whether your divine is leliana, cassandra, or vivienne, they likely all know about the cure. there is a chance vivienne might not know, but that would make the consequences of it coming out even juicer if leliana knows about the tranquil cure, and knows that it can make a mage immune to possession, then her decision to disband the circles makes sense. she may not really know yet how to phrase "hey everyone, go get voluntarily tranquiled and then when we cure you it'll be great," but there's reason to believe that she dreams of a world where mages are free not only from the circle but also from the threat of abominations cassandra most certainly knows, and yet she retains the status quo. why? is she hoping to deploy the tranquil cure in circles? is she expecting to keep it a secret? because as soon as someone finds out the divine knew it was possible to cure not only tranquility but also make mages immune to possession, shit's going to hit the fan. without a resolution in inquisition (even though cassandra CLEARLY SAID she would work on it) there's no way to know if her choice is out of caution or malice

[lost-in-thedas]

For what is worth

Short ficlet about Athrahel’s confused feelings after he met Ameridan.

Hakkon was dead. Like eight hundred years ago, the Inquisition had once again put an end to the threat of yet another Arch-dragon, which would probably have engulfed Thedas if only for the bravery of its heroes.

The Inquisitor had survived. So had the Mages, the Warriors, Dwarves, Elves and Humans, Nobles and commoners, His friends, who accompanied him.

Back at the camp, the taste of victory was drowned in songs and ale. Athrahel, meanwhile, had retired to his tent.

"I'm exhausted," he had said. "I need to rest, alone" and he insisted to this last word, his gaze particularly keen on Dorian.

Nothing surprising. Eliminating an Arch-Dragon after fighting an entire horde of Avvar fanatics had not been easy. Yet defeating Corypheus and his lyrium dragon hadn't stopped him from celebrating on his return to Skyhold. There was something else. Something not worth mentioning.

From the moment people start looking at you as a hero, the less you are of a person. You become a symbol.

Ameridan knew this burden. As they stood face to face in the Old Temple in the Frostback Basin, the two inquisitors silently shared a sense of kinship that no one could possibly understand. For a few minutes, Athrahel no longer felt alone, and yet so fast, Ameridan was already gone forever, crushed by the weight of eight centuries spent frozen in time.

Since the moment he has become a symbol, even more, since he was chosen to be the Inquisitor, Athrahel had learnt to burry his true feelings. To smile, when he felt like shouting. To curtsy, when he wished to set everything in fire, has he been a Mage. Oh! Dirthamen knows he’d probably have been sent to penance, his body swinging on the gallows in Val Royeaux’s main square, had he shared the depths of his real thoughts with the Nobles and Rulers at the Winter Palace !

Athrahel had never wished to be the Inquisitor, nor had he ever accepted the title of "Herald of Andraste". If it hadn't been for the mark that placed the fate of the world in the palm of his hand, he would have fled to his clan at the first opportunity. And yet, he had become accustomed to this burden. At times, he even enjoyed it.

True, Halamshiral was still in the hands of the Humans, but he had given power to the Elves when he had supported Briala, now Duchess of the Dales. Leliana was the new Divine. The Mage circles had been disbanded, the Mage College refounded. Southern Thedas... seemed to be taking a new turn.

Alongside this, there was also dear friends he met along the way. Most of all, the love of his life. So many unique and wonderful people he would’ve never met, may the Keeper never sent him to the conclave. Athrahel had no regrets. And the future, he believed, looked brighter than ever.

Until today.

What will be left of him, a hundred years from now? Four hundred years from now? Eight hundred years from now? Will he still be remembered as an Elf, a Dalish heretic Elf, who triumphed over the Magister of the Dark Spawns? Or will he be portrayed as an Andrastian Human warrior, whose name a family of opportunistic noblemen took over? Will Dorian, and the rest of the people who helped him, be erased too ?

Will the future members of his clan have to fight so that history remembers that he bore the name of Lavellan?

Will the fate of the Elves be even worse than it is now? Will the Mages still be free?

In the end, what if everything he'd thought he'd accomplished had been for nothing? Maybe Vivienne was right. Maybe no one can truly change the world, after all. And that it had been naive, pretentious of him, to believe otherwise.

Nothing and no one can predict the future. The past, however, can still be restored.

Ameridan was a Mage. An Elven Mage, who once sacrificed everything he held dear, including his own life in order to save the world. And Athrahel will make sure the truth will be spread throughout Thedas.

Athrahel always remained humble. He had taken the Inquisition beyond himself, acting honestly under the name of the order he was entrusted to lead. He hadn't acted alone, after all. The Inquisition owed its success to the efforts of hundreds of people, each adding, to their level, their own contribution.

Still, he refused to let his identity be erased, as had been that of Shartan, Ameridan and all the Elves who had been unjustly left out of history.

Back in the Frostback Mountains, Dalish banners will henceforth adorn the walls of Skyhold.

[ms-katonic-of-tamriel]

DAI Playthrough idea

Inquisitor Lucien Flavius Trevelyan.  Ex-Circle mage, mostly content with life in the Ostwick Circle, likes the learning and academic side, does miss his parents, but no inclination to rebel until it was actually happening, at which point he ran off with the rebels because all his friends were doing it. Not religious, no real belief in Andraste whatsoever but kept quiet about it in the Circle.  Since leaving, he’s become a lot more open about his views, and found to his surprise more people than he thought shared them, and there’s enough anger at the Chantry for him to acquire a coterie of fans and fellow freethinkers.  He’s at the Conclave hoping to try and talk some sense into the Templars but it doesn’t go well.

Decisions!

Broadly pro-mage, not very pro-Chantry.  Not anti exactly, but very much not pro either and really doesn’t like the Herald of Andraste title.  Not up to speed on elven issues but the more he learns the angrier he gets at the Chantry, and he does find the culture fascinating.

Goes to Redcliffe to talk to the mages, finds out about the bargain with Tevinter, goes ‘what the actual hell have you done’ and ends up sorting that mess out.  Templars can very much sort themselves out in his mind.  He wasn’t harmed at the Circle but he saw things happen to others.  Gives the mages an alliance.  They were his friends after all.

As Inquisitor he wants to stand for order and justice rather than the faith or revenge and does his best to pick merciful, rational choices where possible. After Adamant, he keeps the Wardens as Inquisition allies, and at Val Royeaux, there’s a good chance of him getting all three parties to work together.  Failing that, he’ll keep Celene as Empress, with or without Briala at her side.  At the Well of Sorrows, Morrigan is getting the power - Lucien hears the words binding geas and goes nope, not for me kthnx.

Romances:

Awkward demisexual who preferred books and studying to anything else, Lucien’s got no romance experience but might consider it for the right person.

Cassandra: too intimidating by far!  Also twice his age.  Even if he was into intimidating older women, Cassandra has expectations of a romantic hero who will sweep her off her feet.  Lucien has no idea where to even start so... doesn’t.  Also she will not shut up about the Maker, and Lucien has spent the past two years becoming a fervent atheist and loving not having priests around any more.  He can’t pretend to be Andrastian for her sake.

Iron Bull: Bull’s stories about his sexploits make Lucien’s eyes pop out and his hair stand on end.  As far as romance goes, Lucien is fleeing in the opposite direction from this one.  They get on well enough, and Lucien’s curious about the Qun... but not curious about anything else, thank you very much.  Still, he cares enough to save Bull from the Qun.

Dorian: a possibility, and Dorian would definitely be interested, but it’s more likely these two will end up as besties rather than boyfriends.  Never say never though. Lucien's really not OK with the way Dorian's family treated him and completely sides with him over it. If Lucien was accidentally flirting with him previously, Dorian might well choose that moment to confess his feelings. Not known how Lucien would respond.

Josephine: most likely out of all of them.  Pretty, cultured, goes out of her way to make Lucien feel at ease, Lucien would likely adore her.  Also the duel scene would be way more poignant with Lucien the inexperienced mage going rapier to rapier with a master duellist for her affections.  Plus they’re both probably demi.

The rest of them:

Cullen: hasn’t got a clue what to make of this somewhat unimpressive young man but he’s who the faithful are rallying around and the only one who can close rifts so he’ll keep him alive.  Becomes steadily more impressed with Lucien over the course of things.  Lucien talks him out of going back on lyrium, having no wish to see anyone shackled by the Circle if they don’t want to be there, even Templars.

Leliana: scares the hell out of him.  “No, don’t murder people!” becomes a common refrain.  However, over time, she softens, he starts to see her less scary side, and he’s able to talk her down from murdering Sister Natalie.  On seeing the change in her after, he’s got no hesitation supporting her for Divine.

Blackwall: they get on rather well!  Lucien respects Blackwall’s experience, always appreciates a big strong fighter to hide behind, and Blackwall’s avuncular nature appeals.  Finding out the truth about him is heartbreaking but Lucien can’t help but rescue him and give him another chance to do better.

Solas: Lucien respects his skills, does rely on his advice, but there’s something a bit off there.  He doesn’t know what though.  He wants to like Solas, but something just rubs him up the wrong way.  Still, he’s a useful companion, they do get on, Solas seems to approve of Lucien’s decision-making on the whole, and Lucien loves asking him about ancient elven culture. He's less keen on the whole 'what if the Veil wasn’t here’ angle though. Solas disappearing will feel like a betrayal and really hurt.

Vivienne: nothing in common at all.  Excellent chance he never recruits her in the first place.  If he does, he spends the entire adventure regretting it.

Varric: takes Lucien under his wing from the outset and looks after him.  Lucien’s appalled by some of Varric’s wilder exploits but does laugh anyway, and the two become fast friends.  Even if Lucien does keep wanting to know how Bianca works.

Sera: they drive each other up the wall but Lucien is somehow still fond of her.  That Tempest stuff is terrifying though.

Cole: weirds Lucien out completely, but he senses the spirit’s heart is in the right place and a spirit who turned human??  Come on, that’s a paper in its own right!  Cole’s fate could go either way, but I suspect Lucien will go for the human option.

Lucien's parents: never had any other kids. They still miss and mourn him. They've been worried sick since the rebellion started and Lucien disappeared. He never wrote because there'd been no contact allowed for over a decade and it never occurred to him. But word of their son surviving the Conclave and joining the Inquisition reaches them and they put all family business in their steward's hands and go to Haven. They get there in time to find the ashes, but returning scouts, maybe even the Chargers, can tell them Lucien is not only alive but Inquisitor and take them to Skyhold. Cue tearful reunion, Lyra as quartermaster, Davidicus joining the researchers, either available as a party member if Lucien needs them.

Training specialty: none of the mage ones appeal.  Knight-Enchanter?  “No I don’t want to be up close and personal with the enemy, I want to be far away from the stabby things!”  Rift Mage: “so... the initial innovators of this field are all dead due to the magic destroying them, and the second wave of experts are all off their trolley due to magical weirdness and seeing their friends disintegrated.  Er... think I’ll give this one a miss, thank you very much.”  Necromancer:  “NO!”

In the end, he ends up studying Artificer after persuading his advisors that just because he's a mage doesn’t mean he should only study magic.  “There’s so much else to study and learn!  It can’t just be learning about magical energies and the Fade!  There’s a rest of the world to see and study!  Why should being able to do one thing make me incapable of doing anything else?”  Cue magically enhanced traps, grenades and possibly some sort of Dwemer laser-enhanced crossbow thing replacing his staff.

Trespasser Lucien is a bit more cynical and battle-hardened and the constant pain from the Mark is no joke either.  He’s honestly not surprised at Solas’s identity by the time it comes out, not as much as he should be.  Does his best to save the dragon, would like to try and save Solas from himself if possible, but isn’t that committed to the idea.  Disbands the Inquisition entirely, thinking it has served its purpose, and then returns to his parental home.  He’s reinstated as their son and heir and is soon using Trevelyan money to build himself a whole series of prosthetic arms with a variety of attachments.  Just in time for the big society wedding involving the Trevelyan heir and the Montilyet heir whose families saw a couple in love and made the wedding decision for them.  Mostly they end up living in Antiva but Lucien’s parents are regular visitors... as are the rest of their former Inquisition colleagues.

[jawsofhakkontranscript]

What Yet Lingers: Look for information on Inquisitor Ameridan

(Previous quest - Storvacker Caged)

Main questline: What Yet Lingers: Look for information on Inquisitor Ameridan

This is the second part of "What Yet Lingers" questline.

A mysterious island in Frostback Basin may yield clues to the region’s past.

Characters involved: Telana’s spirit

(After receiving permission to borrow the boat, you may sail to the Lady’s Rest island and investigate the area.)

Upon entering, one of the following party members might remark on the strangeness of the island:

Sera: I hate this island. Stinks of dog, and blight, and just… sad! How does it smell sad?

Blackwall: For a moment, I almost felt like I was walking down a street back in Markham. Strange.

Iron Bull: Anybody else smell sea-air and spice? That's... that isn't right.

Possible replies:

Dorian: Your mind is being influenced by the spirits here. They're drawing sorrow from you like you'd draw water from a well.

Vivienne: It's the spirits, darling. They're projecting sorrow and eliciting your most tragic memories in return

Solas: The spirits gathered here were drawn to tragedy. They radiate it, as a fire does heat.

Cole: You feel sad because they do, watching, waiting. They want to help you hear it.

Response from the person who made the first remark:

Sera: Make them stop. It's my head, demons. You're not invited!

Blackwall: Right. That didn't help.

Iron Bull: Glad I asked.

(While you explore the Lady’s Rest, you can hear a disoriented female voice, which is revealed to belong to a spirit who found Telana as she was dying and preserved her memories.)

I can't... not without…

Sleep. I need to... I must find you...

No, no, no.

This blood... my blood? No, I can't…

Vhenan... I'm... dreaming…

Ameridan... Ameridan, why?

Party comments when you explore deeper into the island:

Sera: Eugh, shivers right up in there. Not living and not right!

Iron Bull: I could do without all the demons, Boss. Any time you want to leave is fine by me.

Solas: Interesting. What drew so many spirits to this place, I wonder?

Cole: They watched the dead and dying, pressing close, clustered to hear, and forgot how to go back.

(Approach an unstable rift in a fallen shack. The Anchor starts behaving strangely.)

Party comments:

Cassandra: We should deal with the rift. This area will not be stable until it is gone.

Varric: We're not going to leave that rift here, right?

Solas: This rift is ancient. It may have formed from the battle that took place here, not the Breach.

(If no companion makes a comment.) PC: We've looked everywhere else on this island. Shall we see what's inside the rift?

(When you fully open the rift, the spirit can communicate more clearly.)

Telana’s spirit: Telana slept... I slept. To find him in dreaming... but I... the blood... I'm... she's... gone. Telana wanted to reach Ameridan again, one more time, but she couldn't. I couldn't. I died. I tried to stay but only pieces came through. You opened the sky for the rest of me.

Dialogue options:

General: You knew Ameridan. [1]

General: Ah. Another Fade... thing. [2]

General: What is this? [3]

Special: Cole? [4]

Special: Solas? [5]

[1] General: You knew Ameridan.

PC: You... or she... wanted to reach Ameridan again? We're also trying to find him. [6]

[2] General: Ah. Another Fade... thing.

PC: This is going to be the Fade all over again. Do you know where Ameridan is? [6]

[3] General: What is this?

PC: What are you talking about? Where is Ameridan? [6]

[4] Special: Cole?

PC: Cole, can you help make sense of this?

Cole: It hurts. She hurt. The wraiths knew only the pain, but she knew why, daring, dreaming into darkness, for Ameridan. [6]

[5] Special: Solas?

PC: Solas, this seems like something you might be able to help with.

Solas: Pain drew the wraiths, but this spirit touched the mind of someone who cared for Inquisitor Ameridan. [6]

[6] Telana’s spirit: Ameridan. Yes. Inquisitor. Beloved. I... she... came with Ameridan to hunt the dragon.

PC: The dragon?

Telana’s spirit: Huge... power like none had seen. It came from the mountains with the Avvar. Towns fell, all dead. One last favor for Emperor Drakon. Slay the Avvar-dragon, save Orlais. [7]

[7] Dialogue options:

Mad: Why was this covered up? [8]

Confused: He was on a mission? [9]

Stoic: Where did he go? [10]

Sad: He died here, then. [11]

[8] Mad: Why was this covered up?

PC: Inquisitor Ameridan died saving Orlais from a dragon? How could history just forget that?

Telana’s spirit: Not forgotten. Forbidden. Darkspawn in the north, all of Orlais afraid. No one could know. Orlais must stand unstained, no fear to falter. "Please, my friend. For both our peoples." [12]

[9] Confused: He was on a mission?

PC: This wasn't just a hunt? Inquisitor Ameridan was here on orders from Emperor Drakon?

Telana’s spirit: Yes. A secret. Drawn by the dragon. Telana... I didn't want to, but where Ameridan goes, I go. [12]

[10] Stoic: Where did he go?

PC: Can you tell me what happened to Inquisitor Ameridan? [12]

[11] Sad: He died here, then.

PC: There are no records of a dragon, so he must have killed it... and died doing so.

Telana’s spirit: Yes. If he had lived, he would have found her. Me. But he didn't. And no one ever knew. [12]

[12] They fought at the shore. Spirits and magic, cold, so cold. How I found her, how she found us. They rested here, then up the river. Metal spires. A way to stop the dragon. Then Telana returned here alone to wait for him. Forever waiting. Dreaming... then dead. [13]

[13] Dialogue options:

General: You can rest now. [14]

General: Leave, or be destroyed. [15]

General: Goodbye. [16]

[14] General: You can rest now.

PC: We'll find Ameridan. You don't have to wait here anymore.

Party comments:

Solas: You have done all that she asked of you. Be free.

Cole: You did what she wanted you to. You can let go of her now.

Telana’s spirit: Thank you. It was hard. [17]

[15] General: Leave, or be destroyed.

PC: You're too dangerous to remain here.

Party comments:

Cassandra: I agree. It does not seem hostile, but it is safer for everyone if it returns to the Fade.

Vivienne: True. It is only prudent to banish the thing.

Cole: No, she's not angry! She wanted to help. She stayed when Telana couldn't.

Solas: That is hardly necessary. The spirit is no danger to anyone.

Telana’s spirit: I will not fight. I tried to remember. For Telana. [17]

[16] General: Goodbye.

PC: Farewell, spirit.

Telana’s spirit: I have shared her message. I will go. [17]

[17] I... she... went a long time ago. I stayed because she asked. Her things are there. She wanted them found. [Exits the conversation]

(Collect Ameridan’s orders.)

Codex entry: Ancient Document Protected in a Scroll Case

Whosoever reads this message,

Let it be known that the bearer, Inquisitor Ameridan, Commander of the Seekers of Truth, travels to the Frostback Basin on the official request of His Divine Majesty Kordillus Drakon, Emperor of Orlais, upon business vital to the safety and security of this most holy empire, and that he and those who travel with him are to be afforded every service, rendered every assistance, and extended every courtesy in their effort to protect Orlesian lives from threats both magical and mundane.

Maker watch over him,

Kordillus Drakon I

PC: Kenric will want a look at the orders.

(The Anchor erupts, bringing the Inquisitor to their knees.)

Party comments: (I’m pretty sure these reactions are reused from another spot in the game.)

Blackwall: Are you all right?

Varric: Hey, you all right?

Dorian: Everything all right down there?

Cassandra: Are you all right?

Iron Bull: You all right, boss?

Sera: (Laughs.) How'd that work out?

(New ability “Aegis of the Rift” is unlocked.)

(Go back to the boat. In the meantime, Hakkonites arrived at the shore.)

Male Hakkonite: There! It's the lowlanders!

Female Hakkonite: Kill the Inquisitor! Death to her/his hold, for Hakkon's glory!

(Defeat the Hakkonites and return to the mainland. Approach Arvid.)

Arvid: You lived. Thank you for bringing the boat back.

(Next quest - What Yet Lingers: Return to Kenric)

[illusivesoul]

9, 11, 18, 27.

Thanks for asking :)

9. Most disliked character(s) ? Why ?

ME: G*rrus. As I said in another ask, fans burned me out on his character.

DA: Its a tie between Mother Petrice from DA2, F*ona, and Adrian from the Asunder novel. These are the only Bioware characters that have made me feel anger at them.

I hate radicals and fanatics, and this is just what these 3 are.

11. Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t ? Why ?

ME: Jacob. Always thought he was a pretty level headed dude and one of the most stable and relatable members of the crew.

Ashley I love so much too.

Dk if Samantha, Steve and Kelly would count as unpopular since there's almost no content about them, but I love them too.

DA: Loghain, Anora, Vivienne, Sebastian, and many more.

But if I start explaining each we'll be here all day lol.

I will say, however, that Anora ruling alone is the best option for Ferelden, and that Vivienne is the best divine imo.

18. Does not shipping something ‘popular’ mean you’re in denial and/or biased ?

I'd say youre in denial if you say the ship doesnt make sense. Theres always things why people like them.

That doesnt mean, however, that you must like the ship.

27. Least shippable character?

For DA: Oghr*n. I have mixed feelings about him, and I literally do not have any ships that involve him.

For ME: G*rrus. I have just 3 ships I like with him. mShakarian, talibrations and G*rrus x dr Michel. Given the amount of ships I have for other characters, hes the one I have the least ships with.

.

Salty Asks

[kvella]

Port in the Storm - Prologue  (Josephine x Cullen)

A mead fueled tryst brings the Inquisition’s Ambassador and Commander together one night, but responsibility and miscommunication keeps them apart. When they’re assigned to build a memorial for Haven, will they find their way through the chaos or say turn away from each other forever? 

Read on ao3

Prologue

Josephine and Cullen call a stalemate and have a mead-fueled encounter.

To find the Ambassador and the Commander at the Haven tavern was unusual, if not unheard of.

On this particular evening, the advisors had an unexpectedly light workload on their hands, the Herald being off in the Hinterlands to track down a potential Warden ally. Setting aside that they were what Josephine graciously liked to call “very different people” on a good day, she and Cullen had spent the better part of the afternoon bickering over the weathered maps of the war table. As the first dinner bell rang, Leliana excused herself, tired of the stubbornness and sniping and impatient to return to her work.

Embracing the rare opportunity for a free night, they declared a stalemate on the appropriate way to acquire resources  - “just for the evening,” she jested - and found themselves taking in the ambiance of the local pub. It must have been something about the candle light or the dulcet melody of the flute, but as the sky fell dark, their words grew unmistakably flirtatious . One glass led to another, led to one glass of sweet honeyed mead too many and a surprisingly handsy, stumbling stroll back to the Chantry.

It’s hard to say who initiated, who pulled whom behind the Chargers’ tent but suddenly they were intertwined with arms around necks and hips, mouths dancing across each other’s cheeks and lips and chins. They parted, chuckling at the absurdity of the moment and the warmth of the mead bright and high in their cheeks and the crisp, snowy air nipping at their skin.

Pulling open the heavy Chantry door, Cullen grabbed Josephine’s hand boldly, but the gentleness with which he whispered “Is this okay?” melted her heart. Breathlessly, she whispered “yes” and he led her down the hall, a half-step ahead of her. Both were exhilarated by the openness with which they cavorted, regardless of the scarcity of people around at this time of night. They practically scampered down the hall to the bedroom in the far back, a strange youthful giddiness between them, so unlike either’s usual demeanor.

Cullen went first, opening the door to the room and heading inside. As she stepped in, Josephine caught a glance of Vivienne’s narrowed eye down the hall, felt the distinctive sense of judgement dripping from her eyes, high, mighty, and filing this sight away for her personal chess game. Deciding to ignore the opinions of others for once in her life, she raised her chin defiantly and followed him inside. No one else was around the Chantry at the late hour, and their good spirits and libidinous energy bounced off the stone walls.

She scanned the sparse room quickly, though she knew they were alone. To the left, Cassandra’s bed lay untouched. The Seeker had been away for weeks. A rather large tome sat on the table next to a candle that was burnt so low it may never light again. In the back, Josephine’s lived-in bed - made, but not fussily so, not when there are so many more important things to do than have a crisply folded sheet. Her lute sat dusty near her nightstand, an admittedly frivolous item to bring to a war, despite best intentions of putting her past as a bard towards morale and raised spirits. And on the right, Cullen’s bed, a Templar bed if she’d ever seen one. Regulation corners and all.

Cullen pulled her to him by the waist, kissed her hard, seemed to find a renewed sense of purpose in the privacy of their room. The fur of his mantle tickled against her neck. “Do you know,” he asked between fervent kisses, “I have thought about this every day since you moved into this room?”

A good, pious Chantry boy thinking about kissing her with all the passion of a sinner under this holy roof, every damn day. The thought made her knees weak. She moaned lightly against his lips. Filled with confidence, she walked him back against his bed, toppling him down atop the tautly pulled linens.

Desire rested deep in her belly, a sensation she hadn’t entertained for anyone in years. He fiddled with the satin buttons at her throat, jangling her heavy necklace back and forth against her collarbones. She leaned back, trying to give him space to work, fingers making waves through his carefully combed hair. Satisfied with the amount of flesh he’d exposed, he rose to her neck - the feeling of his smooth lips and stubble brushing against her throat was divine and she closed her eyes to savor it. Quickly, a brief flash in the theater of her mind: Vivienne and her haughty sideways glance. The Herald and Cassandra recruiting forces off in the Hinterlands. The bright emerald gashes tearing apart the sky.

A pang of panic struck her heart. Lifting her bejeweled hands to gently cup his face, she kissed him deeply, slowly. His stubble was rough against the pads of her fingers. She wanted to go further, wanted to be closer and closer, truly couldn’t believe she was about to say this until she felt the unfortunate words tumble out of her mouth like marbles.

“We should stop.”

He ceased instantly, removed his hands from her as if commanded by the Maker himself. “Okay.” His amber eyes were smoky, lips swollen and pink and thoroughly kissed. He was so beautiful that, for a brief moment, she reconsidered. "Why?" He asked, regaining composure.

She crawled off of him, settled on her knees at the foot of his bed. A cloud of disappointment floating around her hung head. He propped himself up on his elbows, catching his breath, and let his head roll back in thought, probably some frustration. She couldn’t fault him for that - her body ached for him, but her mind knew how these things tend to go. The mead was in her cheeks, hot and hazy, and his hands had mussed soft wisps of hair around her face, a golden halo illuminated by the fire.

Softly, carefully, she said, “It is not that I do not want this. In fact, I have thought of it...quite often. But…” She paused, dropped her voice to a whisper as if she was not certain that what she was about to say was a good choice. “I do not want just one night. And to become entangled right now with so much at stake...it is a fool’s errand, is it not?”

He sat up, eyes shut tight and brow furrowed in deliberation. She tried not to look at him, hope churning in her gut that he’d quell her fears or try to convince her otherwise or at least tell her he felt the same. Instead he responded, “You are right.”

It was quiet for a moment, only the crackling of the fire and the tension of disappointment to sooth them as they contemplated the many boundaries they had crossed together. Josephine felt a fire stirring in her veins. This man who rarely backs down, let alone to her, had simply caved to her concern without a single protestation.

She couldn’t help herself, and picked the fight anyway. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? When do you ever agree with me?” It came out sharper than intended, but she didn’t try to soften it with more words.

Abruptly, Cullen stood, walked over to the small table near the fireplace. The sound of water pouring into glasses was nearly ear-splitting in the silence of their choice.  “I don’t know how I am meant to share a bedroom with you when I know what you feel like against me, Josie,” he said remorsefully, offering her the glass. Eyes wide, she took it with bated breath. ”But I know that you’re right - were we to continue, I am certain I would have no choice but to stay entangled.”

He leaned back against the fireplace, casually, and sipped the water. She stared at him, a mad kind of anticipation in her eyes. The words hit her ears, white hot. They sounded to her like something of a promise.

________________________________________________________________

I’ve been working on this story since July this year and it’s been so fun! I know this is not the most popular couple (join me in rarepair hell), but I have a soft spot for the Ambassador/General opposites attract dynamic. This story is up to chapter 8 on ao3, but figured I’d post it on here too! I’ve been a Bioware/DA fan since the beginning, but I’m new to tumblr (how did I make it to 27 without having a tumblr??) and want to make friends lol  Hope you enjoy! :) 

[mllemaenad]

Why is everybody keep forgetting that elves had quite some forces and were not some helpless souls? Why do ppl forget that it's their own racism that initially caused the war in the Dales? Why everybody dismisses Minaeves' story about how her clan treated the unwanted mages? I mean Chantry sucks big time, but can we please stop making elves into some magic creatures that only do good. They do not. None of the races and religions in Dragon Age is perfect, yet one has a particular bias from fandom

Hi Anonymous person.

Um. Sorry, but … what? That’s … a lot of vitriol. I’m … going to do this point by point.

Why is everybody keep forgetting that elves had quite some forces and were not some helpless souls?

No one is claiming that the elves were ‘helpless’ in the sense that they were children, or somehow unable to fight. Elven sources are a bit spotty, for solid ‘in universe’ reasons, but there’s enough on the Emerald Knights to understand that they kicked some serious arse.

But. By the time Orlais set its sights on the Dales, it had already steamrolled over a bunch of other nations, effectively doubling its original size.

The grand nation of Orlais occupies a full quarter of the Thedosian continent and extends its influence far beyond its shifting borders. In ages past, Orlais flexed its military muscle, threatening territory belonging to Nevarra and Tevinter and outright invading Ferelden. One could argue that the Emperor or Empress of Orlais, regardless of competency, is the second most powerful person in Thedas – the first, of course, being the Divine.

…

Together, the two [Kordillus Drakon and Area Montlaures] transformed Orlais from a few squabbling clans controlling their own city states into an empire. Hand in hand, they conquered well into modern-day Ferelden and Nevarra, stamping out any worship of the Old Gods as well as lingering Alamarri and Ciriane Deities.

– World of Thedas Volume II

Sure, we have an account of the massacre of a pacifist nation (note that they are also vilified by the text, even though they are literally ‘helpless souls’ being overrun and slaughtered by an empire), but that is going to be the exception to the rule. Most of these ‘squabbling clans’ would have had warriors and fortifications. It didn’t matter. Orlais invaded, defeated them, forced them to convert – and absorbed the survivors. The Orlesian empire is The Blob.

Do you … not get how massive this thing is? A quarter of Thedas is under direct Orlesian control. That’s what came for the Dales. An almost endless supply of soldiers and weapons and supplies against one newborn nation. That’s what’s so scary about empires, once they get going: they can take the resources of the people they conquered yesterday – including the bodies of the actual people to be used as soldiers or workers – and use them against you today.

So yeah: big picture, they were ‘helpless souls’ being knocked down by the biggest bully in Thedas. They put up a hell of a fight – even took Montsimmard for a while – but they didn’t have the resources of an empire to sustain them, so they were screwed.

Why do ppl forget that it’s their own racism that initially caused the war in the Dales?

Okay so … racism. I feel like I keep saying ‘empires are bad’ and ‘conversion by the sword is bad’ and … these are somehow controversial statements that people want to refute? That’s … just a little bit scary, you know?

The elven people quite famously worked with humans. Specifically with the Alamarri rebels who took down the Tevinter Imperium. You know: Andraste?

At Shartan’s word, the sky

Grew black with arrows.

At Our Lady’s, ten thousand swords

Rang from their scabbards,

A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming:

Those who had been slaves were now free.

– Shartan 10:1.

– Dark Moon

There’s even a whole fucking verse about Shartan and his people making a bloody suicide run on the entire Tevinter army to try to rescue Andraste:

The Liberator drew the blade at his side

And charged the pyre, the freedom of the Prophet before his eyes,

But from the legion came a storm of arrows

Blacker than night. And the disciple who had fought side by side

With the Lady fell, along with a hundred of his People.

And among the Alamarri ten thousand swords fell to the ground in a chorus of defeat.

– World of Thedas Volume II

That’s pretty heroic! And pretty tragic! Elven slaves and human rebels standing side by side, fighting an empire. Winning, in the end, although at great cost. And yet what you’re trying to tell me is that the elves are ‘racist’ (also: not a great word to use in reference to an oppressed people because racism requires social power) rather than, say, justifiably worried about the growing power of a nascent empire?

He [Kordillus Drakon] began his holy quest at the ripe old age of sixteen by taking to the battlefield. At the time, each clan had its own variety of the cult of Andraste, its own rituals, traditions and versions of Andraste’s words. Young Drakon unified them by the sword.

– World of Thedas II

Orlais is aggressive and fanatical. It is running around slaughtering people who disagree with its religious beliefs. If you are a non-Andrastian nation sitting more-or-less on the Orlesian border, watching other nations fall and be forcibly converted – and those people just believed different things about Andraste – you have to know what’s coming. This really only goes one way. Are you really going to call closing your borders and prepping for conflict ‘racism’? Is that really the word you want to use?

Halamshiral, “the end of the journey,” was our capital, built out of the reach of the humans. We could once again forget the incessant passage of time. Our people began the slow process of recovering the culture and traditions we had lost to slavery.

But it was not to last. The Chantry first sent missionaries into the Dales, and then, when those were thrown out, templars. We were driven from Halamshiral, scattered. Some took refuge in the cities of the shemlen, living in squalor, tolerated only a little better than vermin.

– The Dales

Relations broke down completely when the Chantry sent missionaries. Because of course they did. The fact that Orlais fundamentally does not believe in religious freedom is the very thing that the elves are afraid of. It is also, you know, a pretext. Provocation meant to push the elves so they start something and Orlais can say it was their fault. There is almost always a pretext. The empire says it’s coming in to resolve a local conflict, or they’re dealing with an incident on the border, or they’re ‘liberators’. And then they stay. And they take.

Do you really mean to blame the elves for being conquered?

Why everybody dismisses Minaeves’ story about how her clan treated the unwanted mages?

No one has forgotten or dismissed Minaeve. Everyone is keenly aware that – on a meta level – Bioware did some quite ugly retconning in Inquisition to make both elves and mages look less sympathetic. Many people have noted that Minaeve’s story is the exact opposite of Lanaya’s story, and that neither Velanna nor Merrill talk about anything like that. Nevertheless, it is raised at least three times in Inquisition: by Minaeve, by Vivienne and by The Iron Bull. So yes, that is a deliberate retcon made at a late stage in the series in order to allow people to do exactly what you’re doing: yell that the elves are ‘just as bad’. It’s gross.

In universe, of course, it’s worth noting that Minaeve was seven when this happened. Whatever it was, it was terrible – but it may not have been what she thought. It’s also worth noting that the Dalish are wandering nomads with few resources, under constant threat from humans in general and templars in particular, and if they did find themselves forced to throw one mage child to the templars to protect the rest – that is fucking horrible, but says more about the world Orlais has created than it does about the elves.

But I have to ask – why do you think it’s so important that everyone remember a twenty-second pro-templar conversation with a minor character, instead of extensive conversations about elven society and losses with Merril and Velanna? Those are two grown women who have lived their whole lives as Dalish and have a keen understanding of the culture of their clans. Or whole novels about Fiona and Briala, respectively the leaders of the mage and elven rebellions?

I know the novels are supplementary material so I’m certainly not blaming anyone for being unfamiliar with them. But if there were things I wish people could always remember when talking about the elves – it would be those stories of oppression and revolution.

I mean Chantry sucks big time, but can we please stop making elves into some magic creatures that only do good. They do not. None of the races and religions in Dragon Age is perfect, yet one has a particular bias from fandom.

It’s … interesting that you brought ‘race’ into this. Because I didn’t. I haven’t been writing criticisms of ‘humans’. I’ve left the Rivaini alone; usually mentioned Fereldans favourably; I haven’t been talking about Antiva or Nevarra. They haven’t come up.

I was talking about the aggression of the Orlesian empire and its Chantry. The elves were brought up as possibly the people who have lost the most to Orlesian aggression. They’re certainly the best sourced of those people. I’ve talked about the Chasind and Avvar where I can (humans!). I’ve talked about dwarves and Qunari. I bring up the Daughters of Song and the Disciples of Andraste where I can, because I have references for them. I know that a whole lot of other cultures were destroyed by Drakon and his Chantry – but alas, I can’t say anything meaningful about them because there are no codex entries, in game dialogue or other reference materials for them.

Of course the elves are not ‘perfect’. While Zathrian’s rage is understandable, his decision to keep the curse going even when it began to threaten his clan was terrible. Merril’s clan was far too easily led to bully and exclude her; they were her family and someone should have stood up for her. Historically, the Dales probably made a mistake staying out of the Second Blight. I mean – I get it. The Blight softened up Tevinter enough to let the rebels take it down. It could have worked again against Orlais. But in retrospect – bad idea. Didn’t work.

Those are just examples. Of course there are more. But it doesn’t matter. That an elven character fucked up at some point does not change the fact that they face racial persecution as non-humans (and are pretty clearly coded as a combination of indigenous, Jewish and Romani people), that they face religious persecution as non-Andrastians and that the Orlesian empire stole their land and forced them into slums.

And I note all of this because of the … tenor of your Ask. Had you said something like “This elven stuff is great, but I’d like to chat about how the dwarves are basically facing an apocalypse and no one will help them, and also wouldn’t a story about a casteless revolution be great?” I would have said “Yes! Let’s talk about that!” Had you said something like “Isn’t it fucked up that the Qunari are treated largely as savage invaders, operating as an ‘Other’ it’s okay to hate?” I would have said “Yes! Yes, it is!”

But … this reads like a list of ‘reasons why people should stop pretending the elves don’t deserve to be oppressed’. And … somehow equates ‘Orlesians’ with ‘humans’?

I mean – surely you aren’t saying that our sympathies should not be with the frequently enslaved minority group who are forced to live as second class citizens in appalling slums, and who have been forcibly converted to a religion they don’t want to follow … but rather with the empire that took everything from them?

Because … I really hope not.

[theharellan]

Guess who read The Dread Wolf Take You!

The Assassin’s Tale:

Three agents. First elf is Dalish, second a city elf, third an ancient elf, which is a good demonstration of the diversity of elven experience among the ranks. I’ll be making another post about Solas’ resources and reach later, likely after I’ve finished reading the other stories, as I know I have comments about some of the other stories where agents are involved.

The Dalish elf says he wants to awaken his gods with the idol, indicating that there’s either differing motives for joining Fen’Harel or he was lying, believing that it would allow him to get what he wants sooner. Both are honestly believable possibilities.

Solas (and his agents, whose ranks also likely include other Dreamers) can kill people in their sleep, even dwarves. This isn’t new information, we’ve known it since Feynriel in DA2, although I am surprised dwarves aren’t immune. I wonder if it would work on Surface dwarves and not Orzammar’s, as magic resistance is explicitly lessened when dwarves leave Orzammar. I imagine it would at least be harder. Based on the Bard’s comments I think in this particular instance and the importance of securing the idol, Solas himself was involved in the assassinations of the sleepers.

Dreams also seem to be places people get instructions/orders, which would confirm a headcanon of mine. 

The Mortalitasi’s Tale:

The red lyrium idol is elven, depicting either “two lovers” or “a god mourning her sacrifice.” I should note again that if Mythal/Solas is ever confirmed as romantic I will be going canon divergent on that, but for now it’s still unclear.

The Tevinter mage uses blood sacrifice to get the idol to do its thing, using slaves. Whatever ritual they were doing was interfering with whatever Solas had been doing at the time.

His behaviour in this story reminds me of something he says to the Inquisitor at the start of the game, the first conversation in Haven: “Posturing is necessary.” I’ve long held the headcanon that a lot of Solas’ weight after he became Fen’Harel was a result of deliberately making himself seem scary, what we get in this is a glimpse of the intimidation tactics I think he’s used since Arlathan.

The Mortalitasi thinks he must have bound spirits/demons to accomplish his attack, but this seems unlikely. Solas has his hypocrisies, but Cole notes in Trespasser “he knows how to speak so spirits listen” re: the sanctuary guardians, and it seems more likely the spirits are aiding him freely.

Again, the binding of spirits continues to play a role in Solas’ anger and frustration in the world-- his problems cannot be addressed just by improving the lots of physical elves.

The Bard’s Tale:

I’m rather doubtful of how much of this is true, I do believe he went to Llomerryn and retrieved the idol and that he now has it. Other than that the story is mostly a lot of name drops or references, with everyone from the Warden to Divine Victoria to Xenon to Tallis being referenced.

He describes Solas as touching the idol reverently, clearly it has personal meaning, although given his reaction to the focus breaking it’s probably nice to not find it’s cracked after some human put their hands on it.

I also believe the Ben-Hassrath didn’t listen to his warning at the end of Trespasser, although tbf the vidassala wasn’t in a position to pass the message on.

Addition: Lisa reminded me that the Bard described the idol, and likely has the most accurate interpretation -- “crowned figure who comforted the other” -- again, like the end of Inquisition. This isn’t the first time Solas has had a sad in Mythal’s arms. Why he needed comforting in the scene depicted here is unclear. It could be anything from Mythal’s impending death, to the Veil, to depicting Solas’ feelings after he took physical form at Mythal’s behest.

General Notes:

More wisps being used for really casual things that really could be done by hand, or potentially even just magic by hand, rather than ordering something else to do it for you. From the description of the Mortalitasi putting it away it seems its in the spoon permanently.

First, some notes about The Bard, headcanons included --     ◦ As others have pointed out, Gauche, the name the party is booked under and his alias, means “awkward,” but it also means “left.” It’s a fitting name both because like “Solas” it’s a feeling/state of being, but also the Anchor was on the left hand (and therefore it’s the hand he removes in Trespasser).    ◦ Opal inlays, which were apparently in fashion a few years back according to Vivienne banter.    ◦ Resembles a dragon, again leaning on Mythal imagery.   ◦  My headcanon that Solas knows Orlesian came true (although I also hc it as being limited in DA:I, I think he would have improved it since then).   ◦ His manner and accent were coached by agents, specifically I like to think Adélaïde (found on @ourdawncomes) played a role in that, among others. Miraen (Joly’s OC, found on @ancientimpudence) likely helped with the outfit.

The little tells Charter picks up on kills me, like her noting that his hair toss is clumsy and the lack of tan lines indicating he doesn’t typically wear rings. I guess when you’ve been bald a while you forget how hair works, which as sb who has had a pixie cut for a few years... yeah, it tracks.

He can freeze people without turning them to stone, and can also freeze golems.

Solas literally can’t pretend to like tea so he just doesn’t drink it. Like I think he’s physically incapable of not making The Face.

The second he drops the act he sounds more like as we know him, Charter immediately noting he sounds “tired.” His voice falters, he smiles sadly, and smiles again when Charter points out that he’s hardly one to talk about the Executors being dangerous. Speaking of, he doesn’t like the Executors, and frankly they do seem pretty odd.

What he says to Charter after she asks for her life -- Ar lasa mala -- features in the phrase “ar lasa mala revas” or “you are free/I give you your freedom.” Since “revas” Means freedom, my guess is this just means what he says in Common, “I grant it to you.”

The second thing he does after allowing Charter her life is freeing the spirit/wisp in the stirring stick, a detail for which I owe Mx. Weekes my life.

Charter does more than just see through Solas’ disguise, but the line “perhaps we are not the only ones you lied to” is probably one of the best assessments of Solas’ character in the series. It also indicates that Solas’ motivations for approaching in Trespasser were, in part, a lie-- or rather, I think, not the whole truth. Lines about how he hopes to be proven wrong and his appearance here it reinforces that he has self-sabotaging tendencies for this plan, like he wants to be stopped but won’t, possibly can’t stop, which brings me back to Regret: There might have been a better choice-- a thought it had not been allowed.

His plans may not be as destructive as first assumed, it’s noted Tevinter will likely take the brunt of it, but also he notes “the elves who still remain” may find it better when his work is done. I headcanoned ages ago that Solas doesn’t lie to those he allies with about the consequences of his actions, aka the destruction it’ll cause. He’s honest with the Inquisition and telling them the truth, allowing them to know the truth while lying to those he’s working with would be inviting unnecessary betrayal. Solas saying this to Charter is further evidence that the modern elves working with Solas are well-aware of what’s happening and as a whole not being lied to, although I also wouldn’t be surprised if some joined up with different ideas, as the Dalish elf at the start may have.

That Solas’ next move was the lyrium idol (which is also his? Or Mythal’s) indicates that if there are other foci out there, they can’t be wielded by him. This makes sense given his could explicitly only be wielded by him without killing him, so I imagine if there are others out there they’re specific to that evanuris/whatever mage created them.

That he regrets involving and revealing himself in Trespasser is pretty funny considering Solas showed up here in-person for like. Really minor, personal reasons. Again. Then revealed more of his plans. Again. Did I mention the self-sabotage?

It looks like this Solas was neutral-to-high approval, almost definitely not romanced. “Tell them I’m sorry” is a pretty general message, so for the purposes of roleplay he would say different things to everyone’s Inquisitor.

In conclusion: Solas is a loser but im still trash for him.

[ckret2]

Like Lover and Owner and Worshiper

anonymous asked: If you are still taking requests about Ghidorah... Can you make one where the monster is having admirer /human/ and he didn't killed her, because she is the only one who like him... Felt like I need something sweet like this :) thank you in advance :)))

So apparently read mores don’t work in asks anymore so this gets its own post! *jazz hands*

I kinda feel like u mighta wanted to ask for a reader insert but didn’t wanna say so lol; so in case u did I left the main character unnamed, so it could be anyone. (In my head it’s AU Vivienne Graham who’s really really into Ghidorah, because from now on all Sally Hawkins characters have a thing for monsters. BUT you can substitute in anyone.)

It’s slightly bittersweet—some relatively surface-level talk of going through Seasonal Affective Disorder because Antarctica, some Ghidorah being like really super absurdly lonely, some kinda obsessive levels of affection—but it’s mostly sweet.

This is gonna get proofed llllater because im tired but wanna get it out. There’s a high chance that some pronouns got messed up because nobody has names and the pronouns switch between viewpoint characters. feel free to lemme know if you spot any of those. (or any other typos. always open to typos.) but don’t feel obligated to since this ain’t proofed. EDIT: Hey this is proofed now!

###

Few people last very long at Monarch if their first instinct upon seeing a monster taller than the London Eye with claws and fangs longer than their own body isn't to whisper, "Magnificent."

"Isn't he?" Serizawa asked, beaming. "Or aren't they, perhaps I should say."

"You said there are three heads. I can only see two. Where's...?"

Serizawa pointed at each of the obvious golden blurs in turn, and then at a murky patch of ice with a spotlight trained on it. She saw nothing through it. "The ice is still too thick for us to see all three," he said. "But the scans have revealed the whole body. He has two tails, as well."

"Absolutely magnificent."

Aboveground, the only thing currently protecting the crevasse they'd dug to reach this frozen titan was a chainlink fence and two very cold guards. There were a few temporary trailers set up nearby, bright orange and flying black-and-white Monarch flags; winter was coming soon, and they'd either have to work fast to establish a base that would hold them through the winter when most other seasonal bases has shut down, or withdraw to an established base for the winter and monitor the site from a distance. Japanese Showa Station was within sight of the crevasse when the weather was clear—had been the ones to discover the titan underneath, in fact—and someone, certainly, was already working out how to arrange for Monarch to move a few operatives into their facility while navigating their strict policy of secrecy concerning titans.

But all of that coordinating wasn’t in the here and now. Here and now, there was only a golden titan, glittering faintly through the ice from the spotlights put on him, and she stared at the blur that was one of his heads in wonder. How long was it going to be until they'd carved and chipped away the ice, and she could see his scales and wings and all three serpentine necks and heads in all of their glory?

She couldn't wait.

She leaned as far as she could over the railing of the rickety scaffolding that had lowered her and Serizawa to look at the monster, and she brushed the tips of her gloved fingers against the ice.

###

They were used to being cold.

They spent most of their life cold, frozen in the heart of an asteroid they pulled around themselves like a cocoon, soaring from world to world, unconsciously aware of how gravity tugged on their body and how the shell around them changed temperature when exposed to sunlight, but not even dreaming.

It took so long to travel from world to world, longer to travel from star to star. Staring at the same pinprick of light for years without any noticeable progress toward it was enough to drive them mad, enough to make them feel like they were going blind from staring so long at the same point, enough to make their heads ring with the silence and the inability to hear their own roars, enough to make them bite and tear at their own necks just to feel something, even if they had to rip off one of their own heads in order to feel. And then they might lose sight of their star and be lost.

It was easier to sleep away the centuries.

They slept now, in the cold, still and immobile. Their unconscious mind was certain that they were sheltered in an asteroid, floating between the stars. Only a few things could wake them from a sleep like this.

One was the feeling of an impact, jolting them awake as they made planetfall. One was extreme heat, warning that they were drifting too close to a star and needed to crack free and fly to a safer distance before falling in. One was other minds, alien minds thinking and dreaming outside of their shelter.

They felt minds now.

Once upon a time, when they were new, they could tell what others were feeling. They had long lost all but a whisper of that sense. They didn't know if it was because they now moved only among alien minds too strange to comprehend, or if it was because isolation and mutation had atrophied the ability.

But when they slept between worlds, when their eyes and ears and noses and tongues were numb and their touch was muffled by the steady pressure of their frigid cocoon, they could again sense what the minds around them were feeling.

The minds they felt now weren't enough to stir them to full wakefulness. (They should have been; but they were not, as their sleeping minds assumed, in an asteroid cocoon, but something different and worse.) But the minds were enough to shake them from deep hibernation into a dazed doze, dully monitoring the small emotions floating around them.

They were the usual feelings of industrious aliens—focused and interested, occasionally fluctuating with the pleasures and sorrows and frustrations that came from the daily private dramas all thinking things had. When the aliens focused on them in their cocoon—they could always sense when someone was focused on them—they were interested, nervous, awed, wary.

Except one mind.

One mind was consistently rapturous.

Dazed and half-dreaming, the other minds were like distant starry pinpricks in infinite black space, maddeningly far away—but this one's rapture was like an approaching sun, rushing up to meet them, filling their tired body with warmth, bright and welcoming and heralding the end of a long journey.

When had their presence been welcomed with such joy? Such unrestrained bubbling glee and dizzy euphoria? They couldn't remember if they had ever been so welcome—not on any world. Paralyzing terror, helpless anger, sickening dread, those they were all used to, those they all enjoyed. Those feelings were a sort of rapture, to be sure—the sort of rapture inspired by a devil. Never had they been on the receiving end of a rapture that was like—like what, exactly? Admiration? Love? The feeling of gazing upon something divine.

It was so warm. So warm, in the cold.

###

Everyone at Monarch, of course, agreed that Monster Zero was spectacular. But she began to realize that most people meant that differently from her. Sure, everyone thought he looked cool. What wasn't to like about a three-headed golden dragon? But no one else was as... as enthralled with him as she was.

He worried them.

The first she realized how widely her opinions differed from her colleagues' was when she discussed how they were going to safely remove him from the ice, and everyone at the table looked at her in surprise. They had all taken it as a given that they'd leave him where he was—incased in ice that was shaved down enough to let them get a good look at him, but not removed, and given extra refrigeration so that their surrounding equipment and lights wouldn't cause the ice to melt further. She'd looked back at them in just as much surprise—surprise at herself for not thinking that obvious. Because of course they would leave him frozen. That was Monarch policy. Hibernating titans were left to hibernate: contained in whatever tomb they'd been found in.

That was what they had to do. They had no idea what his personality was like; they couldn't wake him. They shouldn't wake him.

Even so, the knowledge that she wouldn't get to see him fly was devastating.

Everyone else found the possibility of his flying to be somewhat alarming.

Her colleagues saw his fangs, his spined tails, his clawed feet, and saw only the damage they could do. When they mentioned how much taller he was than Godzilla, it wasn't with a sense of knee-weakening amazement at the sheer grand scale of him, but with the implication that on some level they were calculating proportionately how many more neighborhoods he'd crushed if he ever decided to go strolling in San Fransisco. When she fantasized about what he would look like flying, his wings stretched wide, his scales glinting in the sunlight, her colleagues imagined only the terrible storm his flight would summon.

Everyone had their favorite titan. Even though everyone was wary of the titans' strength and dedicated to ensuring that they never posed a threat to humanity, most of them—certainly all the scientists, the multitudes of biologists and zoologists and environmentalists—had been drawn to this line of work out of love and fascination. They all, to a greater or lesser extent, collectively adored these dangerous giants. And they all adored one or two more than the others.

Of course, they teased each other good-naturedly about their favorites. Serizawa, who refused to keep a plaque on his door listing his official position in Monarch, once showed up for his shift to find his office had a shiny new plaque reading "Godzilla Public Relations Department". Years ago, Ilene Chen had received a giant caterpillar doll for her birthday, which was later seen in possession of her sister—holding it up to the glass window in front of Mothra's egg as though she was showing it off, beaming—and later still in the possession of Dr. Russell's young daughter, who would sometimes carry it like a baby and sometimes use it in battle against her dinosaur toys.

As the most excited scientist in Antarctica, she quickly gained the nickname Fangirl Zero. Sometimes, when people inquired about her work, they'd ask how her "husbands" were doing. It was always good natured, always laughingly, and with the understanding that everyone had That One Titan and was open to ribbing for it.

Even at that, though, she was pleased that when people thought of her, they thought of Monster Zero.

###

They could track its mind. Wherever it went, wandering back and forth, they felt it. They knew where it slept, because they could sense its dreams. They knew the spot where it spent most of the day.

They knew when it thought about them. Its mind shined upon them like a flashlight, calling to them.

It was sometimes so near to them that, if they weren't in their asteroid, they could bend down and lick it. And it would stay there, near to them, for so long at a time.

When had they ever been so worshiped? Never—not in a way that was inspired by tremulous devotion rather than trembling dread. When had they ever been so adored? Never—not since they had become they, rather than one and one and one all separate, cooed over as a trio of precious clumsy newborns. When had they ever been so loved? Never, never, never.

They were graced with every point on the spectrum of unconditional glorification—the upward-gazing glorification of a worshiper to its god, the downward-gazing glorification of an owner to its beloved pet, the equal-level glorification of lover to lover. How could one mind hold so much glory inside it without exploding? The mere spillover nearly melted the cold from their limbs.

Their worshiper grew unwell from time to time. Its emotions grew tired and dull and unhappy and quiet, like a heavy weight was pushing its mood down from above. Even when it was thinking of them, its rapture didn't reach the euphoric heights it used to. Sometimes, when it was close to them, they could feel it trying to force itself to feel euphoria in their presence. It rarely worked.

Every once in a while, it would leave. If they focused hard, they could tell where it went, feel its mind curving away in a long arc as it crossed the surface of the planet. When it settled somewhere almost halfway around the world, they were seized with an unconscious grief. The only consolation was that they could tell it still thought about them. Its worship was a star twinkling far away.

It left because something had been pushing down on its mind. They wished that they could sing for it. As their ability to hear emotions had atrophied, they had instead gained the ability to speak emotions. It took them a long time to figure out the exact notes to sing in order to change a new alien's mind, to enthrall and control it, to make it feel what they wanted it to feel. But unless they reduced a world to ash faster than they could puzzle out the native minds, they always did figure it out. They didn't want to control this mind, though. They didn't need to. They only wanted to turn the coffin lid pressing down on its emotions into a vaulted ceiling again. Maybe it wouldn't have had to leave, if they could have sang for it.

But after a while, it came back to them, happier again.

And so they didn't fear the next time it left.

###

During her lunch breaks and when she was off-duty, she would frequently bundle up and sit in a folding chair near his ice, gazing up at him, studying his faces, wings, scales. She'd sometimes bring books and read to him—if anyone gave her a quizzical look, she'd laugh and say she couldn't help but think he must be lonely in the ice. Oftentimes they were myths about dragons, hydras, and serpents, often sent to her by Dr. Chen as she tried to find more historical sightings of Monster Zero. She'd read him a story and then ask him whether it was true, false, or about a different titan entirely. She'd tell him about paintings they found that seemed to depict him fighting against Godzilla, and ask whether that was him or just another titan that looked like him, and what his relationship with Godzilla had been like. Of course he didn't answer. That was fine. She felt like, somehow, he knew she was there.

Nothing made her happier than working in the same facility as Monster Zero.

It made her almost as happy as Antarctica made her unhappy.

Sunlight was indirect and at times of the year sparse. Even in the summer, the temperature barely ever rose to zero. And except for a few quick, frigid walks she sometimes made herself take for her own mental health, she got very little of what sunlight was available. Almost all of her time was spent in Outpost 32, deep in ice. Even when she slept in her heated room under her many blankets, she could still feel the distant chill pressing in on her bubble of warmth, looking for a way to make her cold.

Most Monarch staff had their permanent assignments somewhere farther north, cycling through Antarctica for a shift of one or two months roughly every couple of years. Nobody wanted to be in the frozen, barren, dark tundra; nobody wanted to share a tomb with the devil with three heads. She was the only one who requested the position, insisted that she be permanently stationed in Antarctica. Because of that, she quickly became the most important person at the outpost: the expert not only on Monster Zero, but also in getting the satellite Internet to work again, in repairing the constantly malfunctioning coffee machine, in finding where the spare bulbs were kept, in coping with the soul-sucking isolation and inhospitable climate at the bottom of the world. She was officially put in charge of the outpost before the construction was finished. Time and again, her colleagues told her that she was invaluable.

But they also told her that they were worried. She understood. She didn't want to—for a while, she resisted it—but she did. Antarctica sucked the light from her mind as easily as the warmth from her bones. She grew tired, sullen, listless, irritable. The base was full of sun lamps, and she was shipped one antidepressant after another to try, but none of them fully mitigated the effects of being trapped underground and surrounded by ice. She couldn't stay there permanently. So for three months of the year, from July through September, when Antarctica was its darkest and coldest, she transferred to a post in the northern hemisphere.

And so, she became a reverse Persephone: every winter, she left behind hell and its king, to return eagerly in the spring.

###

They woke as their asteroid shuddered, cracked, and crashed apart.

Waking was a sluggish process. It took them a long time to remember where they were and what had happened: they hadn't been in space, drifting between planets. They had been trapped underground. They had been thrashed and defeated and discarded. They had been left broken in the frigid slurry of their melted battlefield, too weak to move and sinking. The water had come up around them and froze.

They hadn't finished with this planet.

They would now.

It was good that there were so many little creatures scurrying around under their feet. The creatures made excellent target practice to resharpen their senses, and the guns pinging pellets off their scales helped to wake them up. They hadn't recalled that any creatures on this world had guns. How long had they slept?

Not long enough for the little king to die out. Unfortunate. Excellent.

They were awake now—awake and alive and freezing and furious and ecstatic.

But through the swirling wind and ice shards and shrapnel, through the screaming and shooting and dying vermin, through the darkness and the flashing yellow and blue light, through the electric life crackling up their throats—they felt a point of light piercing their minds like it was the only light in the universe.

The little king had fallen—dropped into the pit he had frozen them in—they wouldn't have to worry about him for a moment. They broke off their search, twisting around, scanning in separate directions for the light.

There, far below, a dark speck on the white ice: one of the vermin fleeing for their lives. There was their worshiper. They had spent so much time unconsciously following its mind around that, even awake, with their empathic sense muffled, they could still dully register its emotions. They had never felt it fear them before. But even so, they could still feel its awe piercing through the fear, in breathless fluttering bursts. Were they everything it had ever hoped for?

They bent down, all together, wings spread wide for balance, studying the vermin up close from three angles. It stopped running and turned to face them, even when the other vermin looked back at it and started shouting.

Within its gaze, they glowed. Yes, they were everything it had dreamed of and more.

It raised a hand, reaching for the middle of them, and they jerked back. No, that wouldn't do. Electricity crackled across the surface of their scales; at times, they had amused themselves by finding vermin hardly larger than their worshiper and brushing lightly against them to watch them sizzle and fry. They did not want their lone worshiper to end that way.

They would give it a different gift. They had wanted to sing for it for a long time.

They reared back, stood straight, and let out a single, high, trilling trichord. It wasn't as loud as they could sing—but they didn't need the whole planet to hear them.

It clapped its hands over the sides of its head, as did most of the other vermin; but they could feel as its mind lifted, floating, filled with light. And may whatever had weighed it down never do so again.

They could hear the little king stirring. If they fought here, their worshiper might be crushed. They gave it one last look—they might never see it again, and a million worlds from now they would want to remember what it had looked like—and then they turned and took off. They flew over the pit the little king was still trying to claw out of, whipped his face with the spines of one tail to knock him off balance, and soared past him as he fell again, daring him to pursue them—away from the vermin on the ice.

They could still feel their worshiper's love.

###

She could never have imagined how much more beautiful Monster Zero would be as a living creature, moving and tensing and flexing, glowing in the dull light, crackling with lightning. All the simulations and theorizations Monarch made about how he would behave, all their CGI models predicting how he would move, all the scans and samples they used to guess at his biology and abilities, and still he was so much more than they ever came close to predicting.

He was as awesome and terrible as she’d always hoped and feared.

And he had stopped to bend down and look at her. Only her. Did he know her? Had he heard her in his sleep? She could barely hear her colleagues telling her to run as she reached a hand for him.

With the sound of his roar, her ears rang and her bones vibrated, and she felt static in her lungs. A moment ago she'd thought Monster Zero was going to be the death of her—and if she had to choose how she'd die, she would choose no other way, even if she would prefer it wait a few more decades—but at his roar she knew it was not possible that he would hurt her. Euphoria poured into her mind like sunlight, like ambrosia overfilling a cup, and her soul sang with lightning. For a moment, she couldn't see, she couldn't feel, she couldn't breathe. She didn't need to breathe. Everything was dust and glitter and enlightenment.

The echoes of his roar faded, and she felt herself settle back on the Earth; but something had opened up in her. She felt lighter than she'd been in years.

Her knees gave out, and she sank gracelessly to the ice, watching the way its necks and tails rippled each time it beat its wings.

Someone said, "Wow. Wow. Did the rest of you feel that?" Someone else said, "Did we know he could do that? That's new, right? We didn't know about that."

Her heart pounding like it was trying to break free of her ribs, she watched him until he disappeared over the horizon.

###

Comments/reblogs are welcome! Check the “source” link below for my masterlist of Ghidorah-centric and Rodorah fics, as well as my AO3 and Ko-fi links.

[ranawaytothedas]

I will admit, I probably haven’t used Vivienne in my game as much as I should.... before you come at me with “racist” claims... just read the whole post.... there are RP reasons mostly... and some lingering bitterness over what happened with the Dornish on GoT and how they fucked that whole story line up. But... I want to change that because Viv is a pretty awesome character and I was letting my anti-circle... and anti D&D fucking over the Dornish... prejudice deny me experiencing a very amazing character....  

Tamaris, is very anti circle... she views Viv as kinda a threat... Mathras too... this was for RP and story purposes. When I played Nyx, who is my “me” in Thedas, I was still bitter AF over how GoT destroyed the Dornish storyline (which is like one my favorite subplots of ASOIAF) so doing anything with Viv would bring up them salty feels.... So I avoided Viv... because the voice actress played one of the characters I was very attached to from the books and the writers of the show messed up horribly with... the only saving grace was the actress’s stunning performance...any who my rant on how D&D fucked over the Dornish is a post for another blog...

With Maeve’s playthrough, however, I doing this whole lets be friends idea with her because Maeve has fond memories of Wynn and I am loving every moment. Like the satisfaction, I am getting from seeing “Vivienne approves” is pretty awesome because in most of my other saves, it never happens. I don’t think Maeve will make her Divine, she is too close to and has too much history with Leliana for me to do that and have int make RP sense... but I am kinda HC Viv as this self-declared mentor to Maeve. She sees the talent and potential of this young woman, this little witch of the wilds, and she wants to try and shape her into a fierce and powerful leader... because Viv sees Maeve’s potential... where many people haven’t.

Also I adore her snark, she makes me giggle quite a bit. I am glad I have a good character to that I can RP a good relationship with Viv with... it’s one of the most enjoyable aspects of this playthrough with Maeve so far...  

[ourdawncomes]

💰 Josephine 🐦 Leliana 🦁 Cullen - for Vivienne | 🍷 Hof 🦅 Hawke - for Merril

character thoughts meme | accepting

Josephine

“She truly has worked wonders with Skyhold, hasn’t she? It was not so long ago this place looked little better than your average hovel, albeit a defensible one. Without her connections, I imagine we would still be stepping over piles of rubble. It’s not perfect, of course. The dining hall’s upholstery is ghastly, and she refuses to hear my suggestions for proper replacements. Thankfully, thus far it has not spoiled our guests’ appetites.”

Vivienne has a significant amount of respect for Josephine. She knows her job isn’t easy, and that managing the Inquisitoin’s coffers will doubtless make her grey well before her time. Though she can’t claim to know their ambassador well, she knows her well enough to know what to get her for satinalia.

Leliana

“Now there’s a woman I would think twice about crossing. She did not survive the Fifth Blight nor Orlais’ court without learning how to be ruthless. Some of the ideas she espouses are… radical, to say the least. I do wonder where she came about them. I am not deaf to the clerics’ plans, she may one day serve as Divine. Depending upon where the cards fall, we may one day end up working against one another, a most unfortunate predicament for the both of us.”

Again, like Josephine, Vivienne respects Leliana. Her work ethic in particular, as well as her bard skills. When it comes to politics, they’re more likely to clash. Vivienne has played her hand in such a way that she will survive no matter who ascends to the throne (she doesn’t even seem to have any approval changes regardless of who you pick) but I tend to believe she somewhat favours Gaspard, where Leliana is quite comfortable letting her die and more supportive of Briala iirc. Then of course there’s the Divine Election. As I’ve written before, I think Vivienne deserves more credit as the centrist candidate with Cassandra standing as the most conservative option. Vivienne gives the mages more freedom and does give us some progress, but her views on the Circle and the Chantry are radically different from Leliana’s. Should Leliana be named Divine her feelings about Leliana as a person may sour, although the respect remains.

Cullen

“Our Commander is a simple man, though I suppose that goes hand-in-hand with being Fereldan. There is something to his manner that makes me wonder how long he will remain with us once Corypheus is slain. Retirement is rare among Templars in spite of the stress they endure, but then again, he is a Templar no longer.”

Her feelings about Cullen are pretty neutral overall? Like “oh he sure is there.” Kirkwall was a mess and as second-in-command she’s quite confident he either had some hand in the abuse, was complicit/willfully blind, or just that ignorant. So her opinion of his ability to guard mages is quite low, but he proves himself well enough as Commander that she’s willing to overlook it unless she has some reason to play that card. She’d pity him were she to find out he was a victim of Uldred’s Rebellion, but as it stands there’s little chance of her ever finding that out. I think they might have the potential to be ok acquaintances, but they have very little in common in any sense of the word.

[cassandra-pentughasst]

Oooh prompt 8 please! Moonlight. Balcony. What’s not to love?

THIS GOT OUT OF HAND BECAUSE I WANTED TO WRITE THIS AS DIVINE ANGST AND THEN I OVERCOMPENSATED. After their victory over Corypheus the journey back to Skyhold was slow going, leisurely almost after months of constantly scrambling to keep the upper hand against his forces. They hadn’t spoken much, but Cassandra knew they would once they got back. Ellana had barely left her side the entire time, not even bothering to try and find excuses to be close to her. It was the first time she’d ever seen Ellana laugh so freely outside their privacy of their rooms. Smile so much. Which made sense because a tremendous weight had been lifted from her when the breach had finally been sealed properly. That was until they got closer to Skyhold and they were greeted on the roads by nobles and wellwishers, and Cassandra felt the change in Ellana like a loss. The feeling only got worse once they returned to Skyhold, and after months of speculation word had finally arrived that Leliana had been named as Divine. The night of the victory celebration Ellana was expected to spend most of her time mingling with the guests who were looking to gain themselves favour and by Leliana’s side after throwing so much of her support behind her candidacy.Cassandra finds herself watching on the sidelines, proud of everything that Ellana has accomplished.Of how far she’s come not just as a leader but as a person in that same time.Wishes that she can just whisk her away from all this and give her the peace and quiet she knows she needs. It’s well hidden but Cassandra can see the strain in her smile, the way she taps the toe of one of her boots against her heel when she’s frustrated.Cassandra herself is tired and after washing off the filth of their fight with Corypheus and the grime of travel earlier that day Cassandra wanted nothing more than to collapse into their shared bed and bury herself between the blankets and furs and sleep until the next age. And she knew Ellana felt the same way.It’s selfish really. And she knows it will end with Ellana making excuses to leave the main hall earlier than Josephine and Vivienne would deem polite to search for her. But Cassandra doesn’t care. After everything they’ve done, after everything Ellana has sacrificed for all of them they deserve some peace.Ellana especially.She manages to slip out of the main hall and through the door rooms when Sera causes a scene near the one of the fireplaces (if she didn’t know any better she would have thought it was staged) and sighs in appreciation of the silence that surrounds her the higher she climbs. She almost doesn’t hear the soft footfalls behind her.“I should have known Sera’s prank was planned,” Cassandra laughs as she keeps climbing, not bothering to look back.“I thought it would never end, and she offered at the start of the night, so all I had to do when I saw you trying to sneak off was give her the signal and here we are,” Ellana sighs, and there is no mistaking the tiredness in her voice. “Josephine is still going to kill me though.”“If she decides to do it early tomorrow morning I don’t think I can be held responsible for my actions.”“Ah the fearful Seeker Pentaghast, my hero and protector. Defending both my honour and my rest,” despite how tired she is Cassandra can still hear the grin in Ellana’s voice. “Oh no, she can have you. I for one am looking forward to a good night sleep and Maker help anyone who interrupts that.”Ellana’s laughter breaks the stillness of the room when they finally reach the top of the stairs. The light of the twin moons is filtering through the glass of the windows and doors, giving the room a silvery glow. Cassandra sighs as she moves over to one of the armour stands, stipping herself down to just her breeches and shirt before moving to help Ellana with her own.Despite how tired she is, there is still excitement running through her veins, leaving her feeling restless. Cassandra takes Ellana by the hand and leads her out onto the balcony with the best view of the mountains that surround the keep (also the one that affords them the most privacy). She leans back onto the stone railing and pulls Ellana so that her back is against her chest. Her slouch affords her the ability to rest her chin on Ellana’s shoulder and Cassandra draws her closer by wrapping her arms around her waist, presses a kiss to Ellana’s cheek when she feels her sigh and relax into her. “It’s nice to not feel so heavy in your arms for once,” Ellana says quietly, and despite having had this conversation so many times before, it still makes Cassandra’s heart ache.“You’ve never been a burden my love, and you never will be.” Cassandra whispers to her. To the mountains. Draws her closer still when Ellana reaches for her hands, holding them both with a tight grip of her own. The light of the moon paints everything in shades of silver, and the snow on the mountains glisten like silverite by whatever winds are disturbing their peaks. Cassandra feels like shes a character in a masterful landscape portrait, dwarfed by her surroundings and the woman in her arms.But for the first time since she can remember she feels calm. At peace. Everything around them is illuminated and Cassandra feels light. “I love you,” she exhales deeply.Inhales the sweetness that is Ellana, and in the still moonlight resolves to hold onto her for as long as she’ll let her. 

Prompt list here if you want to send me something you want to see

[demoiselledefortune]

Dragon Age Inquisition final play-through session!

So finished Trespasser

Overall that's a pretty amazing ending. I'm not sure if it's as interesting if you're not playing a Lavellan/romancing Solas; but it's densely packed with lores and things that'd make a replay (I mean I was spoiled enough to view Solas with hefty dose of suspicion from the start, and I did know he was an immortal of some kind from the beginning; and then got more spoilers as I progressed in the game -- but I expect there's still a whole lot of things to catch better now that I have full context). Trespasser is very well structured and paced overall, between the interludes in the gorgeous gardens of the Winter Palace (although I wish we had better to do in there that those silly and rather frustrating quests), and coursing through the Eluvian (which in itself is great, still allows a few fun sidequests; and lots of great lore drops). The political mess of a situation is a pretty logical follow up from the rest of Inquisition, and that the main choice in the end is deciding the future of the fate of the Inquisition in the political landscape is something I appreciate. I'd have liked if the end choices weren't quite as binary, but I guess that's simpler and ok, it's not like we have that many options. The Viddasala makes a decent minor villain; and of course the whole thing turns the whole Inquisition as an awesome set up to Solas as the kind top tier antagonist that I would put asides to my favourite video game villains. And hey, we even get a dragon fight! Except for once, we had an option of not killing her, which I took because I like getting an option not kill stuff (even though I of course slaughtered eagerly all 10 optional dragons the game provided before -- :3) which resulted in a pretty Hawk-esque fight by which I mean I ended up with all three of my companions down while I was running around trying to figure out how to manage to release the creature; which made for a very fun epic experience in a way that I seldom got from big boss fights in Inquisition apart from that. (I did solo fights due to companion death with Hawk on the first two dragon battles of DA2. Which ended up as good prep for the Arishok fight :3) The end game mechanic of your Mark running out of control, forcing you to release it at close interval was also a pretty great gameplay experience to make the last battles interesting and convey viscerally how dire this shit on your body is becoming...  and almost makes up for how shitty the focus mechanics were overall. That we don't get a third round of discussions with the Companions before the last time in the Eluvians was a bit disappointing though. I guess they kinda ran out of material to discussion. It's also a bit odd that they drop us off at the very end to be solo before meeting Solas without a last framing discussion. The way they did banter spots to trigger though was great. (and a huge improvement on the way banter worked in Inquisition). In term of roleplay my character was the most shaken by the reveal of the Evanuris as False Gods. I always saw her as someone with a huge mystical bend, although not necessarily something that affected her choices a whole lot (besides, say, the Well of Mythal) and someone who values genuineness a lot so that reveal turning out around false premises hit hard; and trying to rebuild a sense of identity and view of the world out of that is going to take her time. She's not even the sort of Dalish who is the most focused on the past (obviously it's important, because it's one of the baseline thing that the Dalish care about; but it's not her main focus compared to trying to work with people, building consensus and exchanging viewpoint. My Lavellan is a diplomat and a community organizer at heart.) The reveal from Solas in contrast was less shattering. She'd figure out that Solas had to be involved somehow with the Fen'Harel organization (from the Vallaslin bit, especially) but expecting him to actually be Fen'Harel was a bit too huge a leap to make on her own... yet something that fell into place when it came and the feeling of catharsis of finally knowing what the fuck was up with him stronger than the feeling of betrayal. In the end I think she had a sense that nothing he could turn out to be would surprise her. She was saddened, bitterly disappointed, horrified; but she never felt like the person she'd fallen in love with wasn't the person in front of her, and she's not giving up on him. She kept the Inquisition as the Divine's guard, of course she did. As I said after Solas left she was sure something bad was coming, and knowing more about exactly what that something bad was only cemented that. And of course, the Inquisition is what she has left, in term of something built up. She has too much emotionally invested in it to discard it when the foundation of her world believes are shaken this way. As far as the other characters go: - Vivienne wasn't the person my character ever got along the best with; and while the epilogue frames her as a big pain in the ass, I think Ireya actually approves of it... what she held the most against Vivienne was always that instead of building herself up as a leader by gathering support from like-minded mages, she'd tried to grasp it parasitically from others in power, and it seems she finally started to do otherwise. Perhaps it's not so bad either for the future of the mages for there to exist multiple competing models... (well it also could result in disaster but what can you do) - I don't have much to say about Blackwall, he was one of my least favourite character and probably mostly for shallow reasons (I never got over that he's such an unattractive character for a romanceable option). His story is interesting yet unsatisfying in term of story integration. My character does have a higher opinion of him than I do and she was happy to see him fulfilling his purpose in the Wardens under his true identity in a way that made him feel better. - Ireya never felt very close to Cullen, but she always respected and relied on him a lot; and is happy to see him continue to work in the Inquisition as well as continuing to work on helping out Templars. - In a way my character and Varric are very similar people (in term of being caretaker at heart) that nonetheless never properly connect (they work on a very different register and of course Varric's feeling of awe at the Herald even though he works at it is a barrier). Still a good friend. I do love seeing him becoming the Viscount of Kirkwall (and annoying poor Bran) which I'm sure will make him happier (he was so depressed during Inquisition). - She always kept a little bit wary and careful with Cole while still valuing him a whole lot, except towards the end, he ended up being the only source of input on Solas' outlook and she's going to miss that. She hopes he will be able to help, somehow. - Iron Bull always impressed me with his emotional intelligence and savviness. He was never someone to underestimate and also someone who brings a lot of things to a group which Ireya valued a lot. Keeping the Chargers alive is a very rewarding choice in term of what that means for Bull's outlook (as well as the Chargers themselves being around) even though I expect you'd only see the difference at the very ending. My character also ended up very invested in his relationship with Dorian, and delighted to see what it brings to the both of them. - It was a joy to realise that Sera has grown up a lot, and reacts with much more tact and sensitivity (in contrast to how she was right after the Temple of Mythal/Vallaslin removal in the main game) when my character felt very shaken about the Evanuris reveal; as well as touched to see they continued being very good friends with the offer of getting into the Friends of Jenny. Keep on being awesome, Sera! - My character started being a bit in awe of Lelianna (she was something of a Fifth Blight stories fangirl XD) but also distrusting her emotional turmoil. She feels very proud of having helped her find an emotional peace once more, and in that context her becoming the Divine is something she's glad of. - While she was sometimes infuriating, Cassandra was always someone whose honesty and willingness to criticise herself earned great respect from Ireya. She was also very fun to tease and someone to bond over being sappy sappy romantic. A very good friend, and I'm glad she's rebuilding the Seekers into something better. - Dorian wears his heart on his sleeve and was a great friend. His ending gives my character great hope for the future. - Josephine was probably Ireya's best friend in the Inquisition or at least the one she felt was the most of the same wavelength, and she's glad to see her fulfil her ambition for her family; but sad to see her go far away. I also really liked Josephine's outburst towards the end of Trespasser, I don't agree with all the points she makes in term of having doubts about the kind of organisation the Inquisition is becoming, yet having some kind of doubts about it is warranted and to have Josephine work her role as moral centre by being worried about it worked very well for me. Overall Inquisition is a bit... too spread out with a lot of things; but still a very entertaining experience as a game!

[flairmagazineblog]

Villa Baboushka: The Classic 30’s Fashion House with A Modern Twist

There’s a very fine line between outdated and vintage. We found the epitome of vogue treasure with a modern approach located at a classic villa residency in Zamalek. Embracing the embodiment of fine arts in its name, Villa Baboushka is the perfect merge of timeless and deluxe. Straight out of the dreamiest folktale, there you’ll find the divine crimson blush entry to women’s paradise. To-die-for brands and crafts are aesthetically placed all around, making it the ultimate charming and high-end shopping experience. Since we breathe fashion, we had quite a talk with Villa Baboushka’s personal stylist, Dalia Abdel Shafi, about the exquisite fashion house and styling concepts.

Do you recall when you first became a personal stylist?

Not particularly. However, it has been my longing passion since I was young. It all started when I used to imitate my mother, a true goddess of mixing and matching. She was the one who taught me and inspired this technique of integrating patterns and fabrics. You can be playful with colors and textures, even seasons; combine velvet with satin and polka dots with stripes. The choices are endless when it comes to fashion and creating looks. Styling grew on me ever since. I turned it from a passionate hobby into a profession when I joined Villa Baboushka, and what a journey it has been.

What was your path towards becoming a professional stylist?

It was more of fate rather than a path. I was in advertising for almost thirteen years, dreamt big and worked hard for it till I reached my last station working alongside the best creators and directors in the region. I just took a leap of faith and knocked on Villa Baboushka’s door, told them how eager I was to join their platform, and the rest is history.

What makes Villa Baboushka a constant elite?

First and foremost, it’s all about the passion for featuring quality, fashion and everything that is striking to the sight. At Villa Baboushka, we are always seeking absolute class, looking for trends and on the constant lookout for what is new rather than what is in season. Our secret key is being at the front of every fashion avenue and ahead of the latest news.

Villa Baboushka is an all-inclusive artsy house. How does it display such versatility in harmony?

This harmony is a state coming from a precepted vision. We always had a bigger picture in mind, and we continue working to achieve this specific image and valuing the same standards we started with. There is a story behind Villa Baboushka with all its branches and divisions – a long journey that we thought about a lot before execution. That’s why we have everything complimenting each other. Nothing was placed randomly.

Tell us more about the Marni collection and collaboration.

Marni is a brand that we got last summer and will be with us in the upcoming season as well. We were very excited to include them as a brand and had immense fun playing with their versatile pieces.

How do you pursue brands for collaborations?

It is that continuous pursuit of what’s new in the fashion world, be it concepts or brands, not necessarily the luxury brands almost everyone knows about. We like to go for a different spectrum of brands rather than the commercial ones. With every brand or fashion house we collaborate with, I always like to tell the story behind it and narrate the vision of every featured designer and who they were inspired by.

Who will you be collaborating with this fall?

We have many brands we are enthusiastic to collaborate with; amongst them are Maison Margiela, Dries Van Noten, Vivienne Westwood, Yohji Yamamoto and we just launched Comme des Garçon.

Does Villa Baboushka cater to a specific woman in mind?

We have every woman in mind. Even in the buying process, we try to incorporate a range of options. We get a brief, provide our clients with different options and take it from there to mix & match until we meet their satisfaction with the outcome. The most important thing is that our clients leave with a boost of internal confidence and glamour.

As a professional stylist, how do you choose what looks work for each client?

Initially, it’s better to meet up with the client in person. To determine the preferences, challenges and what works best for their body shapes. Once I figure this out, I like to keep a part of the outfit in her comfort zone, yet try to push it with an unexpected twist to create contrast, confidence and comfort.

How would you describe your style?

That is a tricky question. I don’t have a specific style in mind but I like to go for what my mood has in store for me. There is a big part of me that wants to bring femininity back to women even while wearing pants, and that is what I feel like most days. My friends consider my style a little boho but it always comes down to how I feel during the day.

Your favorite brand and item in your closet?

My favorite brand is most probably Vivian Westwood; I love what that brand stands for. That leads me to my favorite item – a skirt designed by her that I bought almost ten years ago from Villa Baboushka in Zamalek. I wanted it so much that I had to save up for it.

What items do you think are worth splurging on?

I think there should be some pieces in your wardrobes like a good pair of fitted jeans, a well-tailored black coat or a beautiful crisped white shirt. You should splurge on what you love; shopping is a remedy, and I believe that a lot of women seek happiness and joy through it. Having perfect items can make you feel wholesome and fresh.

What’s the best style advice you’ve received?

Experiment, try things on and consider every option out there no matter how diverse or bold it might seem. Extend your fashion senses and go for other options out of your safe zone.

Now, what’s the best fashion advice you’d give to women?

Play dress-up. We used to play around and create different looks when we were younger, and I believe we deserve to feel that sense of liberation and joy once more. We owe it to ourselves. It will help to build your identity and boost your confidence as well.

Villa Baboushka: The Classic 30’s Fashion House with A Modern Twist was originally published on FLAIR MAGAZINE

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who are your favorite companions in da:i?

aaah, that’s quite a hard question! they have changed a lot since i first played it... i played as lavellan in my first playthrough and predictably romanced solas. he was my favourite back then, followed closely by dorian. on the second playthrough the infatuation kinda faded and i was smacked in the face by how condescending, bigoted and hypocritical he was. its especially infuriating since the DAI events unfold due to his misjudgement of giving corypheus the orb. i still consider him a well written character, he’s just a... bad egg :’) i hope there would be serious repercussions for his actions in DAI, and not a pat on the wrist or a “redeeming” death. he needs to right the wrongs he has done himself i like dorian because his interactions are great, his character design is great, and i find the concept of tevinter very interesting - a society based on the roman empire and ruled as magocracy?? im not going to glaze over tevinters huge glaring issue of slavery though, which is also the one problem i have with dorian. i find it strange that as lavellan your interactions with dorian on the subject of slavery in the imperium are very limited, especially considering that most slaves in tevinter (and in thedas tbh) are elves. i know he makes some comments on their unfair treatment, but he seems to be under the assumption slaves=servants, and that their lives would be even harder outside of their owners household. i dont dismiss the idea that free elves also have it really bad (sometimes worse), but i wish you could open dorians eyes regarding the fact that while his home might have treated slaves as well as servants, they were still not free and in other parts of tevinter they were tortured, raped, brainwashed, sacrificed in blood magic rituals and what not (see fenris) currently id say my favourites are: dorian (still like him), varric, vivienne and blackwall. i understand why varric is changed, and the reasons for his bitterness; tho im still quite sad you cant get closer to him (platonically or otherwise) as an inquisitor. he definitely deserves someone better than bianca. vivienne is very interesting, even if i dont necessarily agree with all of her ideas and i feel like she would probably have a different view of the chantry if deprived of her current status and power.  blackwall grew on me, especially due to the culmination of his personal quest; the man wanted to take responsibility for the wrongs he caused and turned himself in?? thats more than you can say about some other companions (s.o.l.a.s.) cassandra is a bit too andrastian for me; i wanted to like her character but it is obvious she is still biased towards upholding the traditional chantry with all of its abuses and problems (that divine cassandra end changes about nothing?? reinstates circles and templars?? wtf. also what happens to the information we got about tranquillity and its treatment??) sera was not my cup of tea due to some abrasive comments regarding elves and magic - which i never got over because im petty like that :’) in fairness to her writer, people can just BE like that, its just a hard thing to take if you’re playing that type of character. i really dont feel one way or another about bull, but hes amusing to have in the party. tbh im not as attached to DAI characters as i was with DAO and DA2??? in the previous ones you got a sense of family and found home while DAI felt a bit disjointed to me. its true that in the previous ones you start from nothing together with your companions and work your way up, while inquisition is all about you already being herald - so it sets a certain distance from everyone else. that doesnt make me miss my old buddies any less tho :(((((((((((((((((((