#watcher's talon

[solargeist]

It hurt in the beginning, but it hurt much MUCH more later on. You aren't even really aware that things are happening to you. They are subtle like that. After all, They have had the chance to prefect this process down to almost the second of becoming like Them.

Unfortunately, the perfected method is very painful. You feel it in your bones. Just a dull ache that makes you think of growing pains as a child. Something that once was easy to do; no longer works for how your body is structured (like climbing a tree or how when you used to cry, it would always be with tears that made your face too hot).

The shift from bones to being in your muscles would seemingly happen over night. Tendons feeling too rubbery and bendable and cartilage always became brittle. The nosebleeds became normal, and you are reassured that it is normal. (After all, it is to them.)

Eventually, it buzzes under your skin. Sometimes it feels like a phone vibrating under anywhere that might have blood, but then others it's impossible not to think of their being insects just under the first layer. (There are no bugs in the End. You know that. At least, you haven't seen any Endermites...) You hear it in your ear drums. Your teeth rattle ever so slightly in a way that makes your jaw hurt. The perpetual motion makes stomachs easier to upset and falling asleep almost impossible.

But eventually, after sitting too long in discomfort, you find out the meaning of these sorenesses. It is so much easier to mold something if it has been made pliable. They desire to bend, to snap, to stretch you as far as you'll go and then go farther.

Watchers are massive things in their fullness. Large and hulking creatures that can blot out the sun at their full hight. But one simply does get to being that size naturally. No, they had to be pulled up; spines and fingers being elongated, arms and legs extending out, and smiles made even wider to show more teeth.

The smile is why Grian doesn't ever bother having one shown. He hates to remember hooks pulling at his cheeks.

-Phantom

The way you go from DMing me to put him in a microwave, to this, is always fascinating, really, a littol gift to me 🫶

I think the Watcher holds his hair back when he’s sick, or gently rubs his back when he’s sore, even though it’s their fault he’s like this!!

[moved-to-thanatologie]

and, as a secondary thought: while all of these people came together for a singular purpose with the veilguard (as these things go), we also gotta remember that these people have had full lives outside of the veilguard, and those lives don't stop just because of it. there's more to them than a singular personal quest chain, and is definitely something i want to dig into.

[dalishious]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Familiar Faces and Factions

The trailer for Dragon Age: The Veilguard has dropped, and I couldn’t be more excited. It’s like a new breath of life has entered my lungs!

Within the trailer, we now have confirmation of who our seven companions are going to be, and among them are a few familiar faces from the book Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights. We also have some name-droppings of a couple factions featured in the same book and the comics, Dragon Age: The Missing. So, here is what knowledge is established about these faces sand factions.

Neve Gallus & The Shadow Dragons

Neve Gallus was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Streets of Minrathous”. She comes off as a no-nonsense and a little intense kind of person. Neve is a Tevinter mage who works as a private investigator. For example, if someone wants some detective work done but doesn’t want the public to know, they would hire Neve. On occasion, she’s even been hired by the templars, who act like just regular cops in Tevinter – and yes, that includes their corruption and primary goal of simply protecting the elite – but Neve prefers to work alone because of that corruption, and has a personal grudge against the order for taking bribes to cover up crimes.

Neve has a prosthetic leg below the knee, made of dwarven-crafted metal.

In The Missing, Neve says she is friends with the Shadow Dragons. In the article shared by EA, as of The Veilguard, she is officially a member. The Shadow Dragons are a group of concerned Tevinter citizens who help those in need. This includes supporting escaped slaves, for example.

Emmrich Volkahrin

Emmrich Volkahrin was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “Down Among the Dead Men”. He is a necromancer from Nevarra, and therefore naturally a member of the Mortalitasi – specifically, a professor in the Mourn Watch. The Watchers serve as elite guardians of the Grand Necropolis. Emmrich is on the eccentric side, personality-wise, but kindly and informal.

Emmrich has a skeleton assistant name of Manfred, who helps him with different office tasks. He also has friends in Myrna, a fellow Watcher, and Audric, a dead guardsmen who looks after the library.

Lucanis Dellamorte

Lucanis Dellamorte was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Wigmaker Job”. He is the favourite grandson of Caterina Dellamorte, First Talon (leader) of the Antivan Crows. As such, he was raised from birth to be the perfect assassin in a ruthless and torturous environment, knowing only cruelty from his family. This has led to him feeling less like a person and more like a living weapon – and he is treated like one by everyone who knows of him. He has “the Demon” as a nickname.

I know a few people are curious about the “mage killer” title in the trailer. Rest assured that Lucanis specifically kills evil blood mages. In his own words: “If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I’m not going to complain.”

Where his cousin Illario has a “silver tongue” as Lucanis puts it, he himself is a lot blunter. His reputation of a killer is spotless, except for one small problem: He has a heart under all that black leather.

Lucanis and Illario get along quite well, except for the fact that Lucanis is destined to be the next First Talon, after Caterina dies. Illario wants the job far more than Lucanis, but Lucanis isn’t sure he’s capable of making a decision for himself that goes against the wishes of the Crows.

The Veil Jumpers

The Veil Jumpers were first introduced in The Missing #3. They are a group made up of primarily Dalish elves, though also inclusive of other folks of any walks of life willing to help, working to try and control the new threats within Arlathan Forest. The forest has become a ground of chaotic magic, with the Veil so thin that time and place is jumbled together. Thus, the Veil Jumpers move in and out of the spots that bleed into one another.

The Veil Jumpers do have a headquarters called “The Sanctum”, but we know nothing else about it.

The Lords of Fortune

Despite the Lords of Fortune being mentioned in more than one Tevinter Nights story, as well as the show Dragon Age: Absolution, we don’t know a lot about them. The only concrete information provided is that they are a loose group of people who collect trinkets and glory. They come out of Rivain. They typically wear a lot of their collected trinkets like badges of honour. That’s really all there is, so I can’t wait to learn more.

[returnofismasm]

Given how much of the immediate backstory to Dragon Age: Inquisition was found in Asunder and the Masked Empire, I think some people might be wondering if any of the short stories, anthologies, or comics are also "homework" for The Veilguard. Obviously, the game's not out yet, so I can't be 100% sure, but here's my best recommendations based on what we know about the characters (done in alphabetical order because why not).

Bellara: She's new! The Veil-jumpers are in a single issue of the Missing, but she's not any of the ones named there. They investigate magical disturbances around Arlathan forest, and that's kind of all we know.

Davrin: Also new! The reason he seems to have a juvenile griffon (or at least, why there's a griffon at all!) is covered in the events of the novel The Last Flight, but it's hard to say how much any of those specifics are relevant to Davrin.

Emmrich: Emmrich (and Manfred!) is in Down Among the Dead Men in Tevinter Nights, and another, The Eternal Flame released during a Dragon Age Day and archived on the wiki. We learn he's a senior member of the Mourn Watchers, somewhat eccentric, and capable of talking to the dead. Also he's got a last name, Volkarin, so that's neat. All of that seems pretty easy to catch people up on in-game. (Down Among the Dead Men is really good though).

Harding: Harding is in the Missing, accompanying Varric on his hunt for Solas. Her buddy-cop-comedy-ing it with Varric is apparent from the trailer. Her apparent magic powers are completely new though!

Lucanis: He and Neve probably have the most backstory in Tevinter Nights of the bunch. Lucanis's story is found in the Wigmaker Job and he's mentioned in Eight Little Talons, both in Tevinter Nights. A Dragon Age Day short story called the Wake seems to have implied that he died, so mayhaps he faked his death? To hopefully set some people at ease, even though he's advertised as "The Magekiller," the mages he's killing are Venatori, so it's all good. I doubt he'd have beef with Neve or Emmrich or a mage PC JUST because they're mages. Also he's got a last name, Dellamorte.

Neve: Neve has a last name too! It's Gallus. Neve is the viewpoint character of the Streets of Minrathous, where she stops a Venatori plot to unleash a giant sealed demon underneath Minrathous. Her story is very Noir-vibes in a fantasy setting. She's also in the Missing for an issue, where she meets Varric and Harding and they work together to help escaped slaves avoid recapture by the Venatori. The giant sealed demon business did feel very "preview of a boss battle" but who can say if it actually is.

Taash: Like with Bellara, Taash herself is new, but the Lords of Fortune have featured elsewhere. They're in a number of stories in Tevinter Nights, as well as in Dragon Age: Absolution. The group doesn't seem to have a formal role, they seem to be sort of "adventurers for hire." Side note though, Ataashi is Qunlat for dragon, so I wonder if that's where Taash got her name.

[luetta]

capturing angels is easy. snipe them from the skies, break their halos, and watch the divine light fade from their eyes as you turn them into fleshlights.

capturing a seraph is harder.

they live in the upper atmosphere, far beyond reach. luckily nothing grabs their attention better than desecrating nature. you’ll have one hovering above you the moment you start pouring oil into the river.

but they’re invisible, they don’t actually do anything. they just watch with seething rage. but you can tell where they are, if you look carefully at the ripples in the sky. and they can be speargunned like any other piece of meat, they’re not intangible.

but they’re fast. once they get hit they’ll try to fly away, faster than you can blink. but it’s against their code to break something holy. that’s why i soaked the speargun rope in the blood of that drunk priest. it simply can’t snap the rope.

it’ll try attack you now, lifting it’s veil of invisibility and showing you it’s form. it’s beautiful, it’s blinding. that’s why we wear these industrial goggles to block most of its rays.

after the initial blast of light, you can see it’s true form. a 3m tall body of white porcelain, with undulating red spirals flowing from her talons. 3 halos, 2 pairs of wings, 6 uncaring eyes. it tries to attack us, shred us to pieces. but with a few more unbreakable spears, she’s essentially pinned in place.

it lets out a screech, attracting other seraphs. they come, but they just watch from afar. the leaves of all the trees nearby shrivel up. putting 2 pikes into her main wings, she can’t move. turning her head to look at us like an owl, she starts to speak.

“SURRENDIPITY. AMALGAMATION. DESECRATION. VOLITION. QUINTESSENCE.”

it’s best to just ignore them during this part. and instead just focus on the halos. that’s the target.

striking it with tools - sparks flying off - it’s amazing how much these floating discs feel like they’re anchored in place. they simply don’t react. but that’s a boon in our favour, not theirs. it means, eventually, they’ll shatter. if they warped it’d be exponentially harder to destroy.

eventually, the first one breaks with the help of a winch attached to the truck.

the seraph starts to struggle against her binds now, strange new feelings of danger making it panic.

“LIGHT FLOW BEAUTY RESIST ERODE TRANQUILITY. WATER AIR SPLIT GROW RECEDE. MAPLE LIMESTONE WIND TIDE BLOOD.”

the second halo breaks.

“SMOKE FIRE WAR WAR WAR. SHARK DARKNESS DEATH. MISERY. BLOODSHED. FEAR. TERROR. ACID BLINDNESS DECAY.”

the last halo cracks, it’s about to give out. the seraph is straining against the spears, shaking, desperate emotion in her eyes.

“LOVE WISDOM HAPPINESS. JOY PROSPERITY ENDLESS. RAINDROPS. YOURS. OWNERSHIP SUBJUGATION FREEDOM. LOVE EMPATHY ENVY PLEASURE RESPITE. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. HOSPITALITY. INTIMACY. MERCY.”

the halo shatters to a million pieces. the area is no longer illuminated by some unseen source. the ripples in the sky disappear, the watchers retreat, uninterested now. the scared creature is speechless, her eyes wide and unbelieving. dirt now sticks to her body, instead of just sliding off. flesh instead of ceramic. we take the spears out, but bind her with ropes much harsher now. she’s still has strength, but it’s no longer unfathomable like it was.

now she’s just another fallen angel, about to learn the one thing divinity lacks, and humanity excels in. physicality. we have a lot of breaking in to do before she’s ready to join the other angels downtown. or perhaps i’ll find a private, permanent buyer. something like this would probably fetch enough to let us get out of this shithole finally.

as we throw her into its new room, a cold, stone room, with hooks in the walls to attach chains to, she speaks again.

“hurt. sadness. freedom fear anxiety. lost indecision hubris. mercy pain silence. separation beauty uncountability. exploration … limitations. unknown darkness fear. ”

“don’t worry darling. we’ll have you singing again in no time.”

[ryuto12-gaming]

Funny idea that after Veilguard Emmrich returns to the Necropolis and starts teaching again and ljke, his class of ten doesn’t believe he was actually part of Rook’s team, think he was just like distantly involved and not really right up and personal

Until one day the Neve Gallus pops in, and Maker only knows how she got there. And she’s talking with Manfred like she knows him personally, calling him ‘Fred’ and patting him on the arm like an old friend. And after shrugging off that nonsense while Emmrich is in the middle of a lesson some random just sits in the back of the class and it’s only later they all figure that’s Rook who was coming to trade ideas on the Bellara Lutare’s notes on a possible renovation to the Lighthouse.

And that’s just passing bullshit, right? Wrong. A bunch of younger Watchers are gushing over this new monster hunter manual and one brings it up in class so Emmrich takes the opportunity to show off his signed by Davrin copy of it and their all just jaws to the floors. He even offers to have Davrin come in and they could have a small module on Darkspawn and other creatures they could encounter.

Emmrich has a beef with another teacher about something, and on his desk the next day is a note “ask Lucanis about the issue with (name)” one student who has an odd backstory makes the connection that’s Lucanis Dellamorte, the killer of Ghili’nain and First Talon of the Crows. Start watching the other teacher very closely, thinking there’s now a hit out on them. Emmrich had actually meant it as help with a poison in the body of a nobleman that he’d never seen before and wanted a Crow’s professional opinion on what it was, but they don’t know that.

One becomes mildly obsessed with dragons and Emmrich starts listing off anything curious about and when they ask how he knows so much he goes into a whole story about how he and Taash bonded over learning each others interests. Spirals into Rivaini and Qunari death practices eventually, and how a combination of cultures can lead to unique funeral preparations.

By this point they almost believe him, but just can’t bring themselves to fully get into the idea that old, soft-hearted and sweet Professor Volkarin fought the impossibly powerful Elgar’nan.

Then one day there’s a griffon playing with Manfred when they walk into class and Davrin is having the time of his life because Emmrich’s chair has wheels and he’s just spinning. And on the desk Taash is sitting there, spinning him faster and faster. It’s not helped by once again the Neve Gallus, who’s fighting off like seven wisps who are trying to steal her hat.

They finally believe him.

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 8

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 2929 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

'Get to your stations! Grab any weapon you can!'

Dick weaved and dove in and around the swarm of women running through the halls of the armoury that encircled the palace, all the while trying not to lose Y/N as she stormed through the halls shouting commands. The walls thundered around them as harpies attacked the palace walls, trying to get inside. All the noise and speed of its all had Dick's blood thrumming in his ears.

'Y/N! Wait up!' Dick called out to her, but still she ran on, picking up Amazons who'd been shoved to the floor in the rush and pushing them onward to their posts. All while still wearing that stunningly beautiful gown.

'Keep moving!' Y/N encouraged as they continued through the armoury. 'Those harpies are not waiting for us, and I can only imagined there is more where they came from.'

'Y/N, hold up-' Dick tried again, but was cut off.

'Not now, Dick,' she said as she waved at him, clearly not listening.

'But I think you should-'

The shattering of a glass window interrupted Dick once more, the cause being one of the deadly harpies that were attacking them. It lashed out at some nearby Amazons, slicing legs and arms in its wake. Y/N leapt into action, seizing a lance lined up on the wall and charging at the creature.

She pierced the lance through one of its wings, wrenching an ear-piercing screech from the harpy. It slashed at her with its taloned hands, but Y/N leapt back out of reach, ripping the lance from the harpy's wing before plunging it into the harpy's exposed chest.

The creature spasmed and made a horrible, wet sound before it collapsed to the floor dead.

Dick watched as Y/N withdrew the lance from the harpy, green blood dripping from its sharp end. The same blood that had spattered all across her white dressing. She looked up to see a crowd of stunned warriors watching her. 'Go! There is no time to waste. We must secure Themyscira.'

The watchers scrambled to find a suitable weapon before darting away to attend to their posts. Without missing a beat, Y/N turned to Dick and motioned for him to follow her. 'Come on, we've got to go.'

'Y/N wait,' Dick tried one more time.

'Oh for Athena's sake, what is it Dick?' Y/N asked, angered as she turned back to face him. Some of her hair had escaped its bun and now framed her face, her flushed cheeks. Dick had to bite his tongue lest he tell her he thought she looked cute when she was mad.

Instead, he motioned to her green blood-spattered dress. 'Don't you think you should change first?'

That just only seemed to anger her more. 'Are you serious right now?' When Dick just nodded, she groaned in frustration but leant down, grabbed the dress from just below her knees, and sliced it until all that was left of her dressings was a shorter version that finished just above her knees.

In a frustrated huff, she threw the remaining scraps to the floor and pointed said to Dick, 'Happy now?'

'I am, but your Grandmother is going to be so pissed.'

Y/N rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, the sound of a high-pitched horn resounded from outside. The thundering around them stopped as well. Y/N and Dick shared twin looks of curiosity with one another before rushing to the broken window.

'They're retreating?' Dick questioned, watching the hundreds and thousands of harpies retreating to the beach he arrived on.

'No,' Y/N said, 'they're preparing to attack us with something worse. Quick, we've got to get our forces down to the beach.'

~~~

Y/N stood with Dick and Calliope on the beach she first arrived on all those months ago, staring out to the ocean where the harpies just hovered over the wild waves.

'What are they doing, Princess?' Calliope asked, and if Y/N didn't know any better, she would've thought Calliope sounded partially afraid.

'I don't know,' she answered, never taking her eyes off the creatures. 'They seem to be waiting for something.'

'Well I think we should take them down now,' Dick said, pulling out his escrima sticks the weapon masters had forged for him. They weren't his usual ones equipped with tasers, but they suited him far more than a sword or lance, along with the shuriken stars he'd requested be made as well.

'How, genius?' Y/N asked, pointing to the hovering harpies. 'They are ten metres above water that could be concealing even more dangerous creatures. You really want to test what the outcome of that fight will be?'

Dick gave her a frustrated look, one she'd seen many times before when they'd been in battles, but he shook his head in response and relaxed his stance once more.

'Princess, look!' Calliope called out, pointing to the ocean.

The waves drew higher, crashed on the shoreline more heavily and creating more foam. But that wasn't what scared Y/N. It was the green light emanating from underneath the water's surface. It seemed to circle the entire coast of the island.

'Warriors, at the ready!' Y/N called out, and she heard her cry echo either side of her until it faded around the corners of the island where other units of warriors waited to defend their home. Calliope drew her sword and Y/N took up an offensive stance with her lance, its green-crusted tip flashing emerald in the moonlight.

As the light grew more bright, the waves finally came to a chilling standstill, the surface mirroring the harpies and the night sky beyond them. But just as quick as the stillness came, it was broken as hundreds of thousands of black sea-like creatures with glowing green eyes came splashing and thrashing out of the ocean.

'Attack!' Y/N cried, and she, Dick and Calliope were the first to charge towards the creatures.

The beach exploded with the battle cry of thousands of Amazons as they charged towards the shoreline. The monsters howled and growled and hissed and screeched as they too charged away from their watery entrance to meet the warriors on the beach.

The two armies clashed like steel on stone, the mighty crash resounding up and down the beach like firecrackers being set off. Y/N threw her lance at a fish-like crocodile straight down its throat as it lunged at her with an open mouth. She didn't wait to see if it died, only pulling her lance from its throat as it deflated onto the sand and moving onto the next creature.

Hours could've passed, perhaps only a few minutes had, but Y/N felt trapped in a bubble of never-ending fighting. She struggled for breath as she fought off a human-sized octopus-like creature, trying to pull her lance out of its grip. It had seven tentacles on her lance, but the eighth rose high above, ready to strike down on her.

Y/N braced for the blow, but the sudden rush of air past her ear and the screech of the monster had her looking around to see Dick running towards her, preparing to throw another shuriken star.

As the second star hit its mark, the monster released its hold on Y/N's lance, giving her an opportunity to pull it free of its clutches and slice precisely and ferociously at its other tentacles before throwing it at its huge head.

Piercing its brain, the creature fell silent and collapsed to the ground. Y/N quickly picked her lance out of the creature's head and fell back to back with Dick.

'Thanks for the save,' she admitted, batting off a slithering eel-like creature as it lunged at her.

'Don't mentioned it,' Dick grunted as he kicked back another creature. He leaned over his shoulder to get a partial look at Y/N, an exhausted smile on his lips. 'Just like old times, right?'

'Right, because the last time I had to fight a greek goddess was, uh, when again? Hey, behind you!'

Dick and Y/N flipped around fully to attack oncoming creatures on both sides, and Y/N felt the familiar rhythm of working with Dick fall back into place. He had her back, and she had his. When he would duck, she would strike; when she made a feint, he would be ready for the hidden blow.

Dick breathed heavily as he turned to face Y/N, that damning smile bringing light to the midnight battle. 'Is it wrong to say I kind of missed this?' he said between heavy gulps of breath.

Y/N couldn't help but huff in amusement at his statement. 'Really? You want to reminisce now?'

He shrugged. 'Why not. No time like the present!'

'I'd beg to differ.' Y/N slashed at an oncoming creature's throat, barely flinching as green blood splattered all over her already ruined gown. Dick was right. If Y/N survived the night, her grandmother was going to kill her.

When she turned back to Dick though, he was still giving her that damn smile - the one that always sent her heart aflutter, the one that threatened to melt her resolve every time he flashed it - and she couldn't help but smile back.

But as if in slow motion, Y/N saw a black blur over Dick's shoulder, but before she could warn him, a tentacle wrapped itself around his ankle and dragged him backwards.

'Dick!' Y/N went to go after him but something slammed into her back and pushed her to the ground. She managed to rollover and put her lance up for the sea lion-like creature to bite on instead of her neck. It kept gnashing its teeth at her, and all she could do was block with her lance. She looked around for any help but all she saw were the Amazons.

Wounded, bleeding, fighting, lying dead in the sand. The cries of the injured deafened her, suffocated her to the point Y/N didn't think she was breathing. They'd fought valiantly, but the monsters just kept coming.

They were fighting a losing battle.

Anger and sadness overwhelmed her as she heard her name being called out to her. As if she could answer their prayers. As if she could help them.

I have to. I have to help them.

All her anger and hopelessness surged through her, along with something that was unfamiliar. As she looked up at the sea lion, her vision went white.

~~~

'Y/N!' Dick called out to her as he saw her be slammed into the ground by the sea lion. But the octopus had a grip on him which was not so easily escaped from.

Dick rolled onto his back as he came face to face with the creature apprehending him and threw two stars at its flashing green eyes. It screeched in pain, releasing Dick as it floundered around now blind.

Dick didn't pay the creature anymore mind, instead turning back to race for Y/N. But just as he approached, he was knocked back by some force that exploded from Y/N and the sea lion. When he refocussed he couldn't believe what he saw.

Y/N hovered just above the sand, haloed in a white energy that radiated power. Her loose hair floated as if she were suspended in water, and her eyes glowed pure white. Her lance appeared to be burning too, a white hot flame in her hand that did not flinch at its heat.

Y/N looked directly at him, but Dick saw no recognition on her face and knew in that moment he wasn't dealing with just Y/N.

'Get everyone to the mountainside,' she said, her voice echoed by a deeper, more resounding voice. It was almost like someone else was present with Y/N.

When Dick didn't move, Y/N lunged her lance at a large group of creatures running their way and expelled a large blast of energy that vaporised them in seconds. She then turned back to Dick and, seeing he still hadn't moved, shouted, 'Go!'

He didn't know what she was going to do, but he didn't wait around any longer to be reprimanded again. Dick scrambled to his feet and started ushering any Amazon he could find back towards the stairs that led up to the city. 'Get to the stairs!' he cried, running and fighting through the battlefield. 'Get to the stairs! Grab anyone you can and get to the stairs! Spread the message!'

Quicker than expected, his message wrapped around the whole beach and the thousands of warriors on it started retreating from it. One young warrior fell as she ran away from a creature chasing her. It lunged at her with fangs bared, but Dick slammed his escrima sticks down on its head before kicking it away.

'Here, come on!' he said, offering his hand out to help the young girl up. She couldn't have been any older than sixteen.

She gratefully took his hand and let him lead her to the stairs. Once they were high enough up, Dick turned to see Y/N drawing in the monsters and fighting them all. He was transfixed. She acted as a beacon on light, giving him and the Amazons time to reach safety.

But what would she do from there?

'Y/N!' He called out to her, and to his surprise she looked his way, those pure white eyes piercing his soul.

Without a word, she rose high above the crowd of creatures and Dick felt her drawing in energy from all around her as she glowed brighter and brighter. Suddenly, she took off, flying around the corner of the beach, and just when Dick thought she'd left them alone, she came flying back around the other side.

Dick held onto the young girl protectively as Y/N flew circles around the base of the mountainside, getting faster and faster until all she appeared to be was a blurry white line encircling the island. It was only then Dick noticed a sheer barrier building from the ground upwards and arc towards the middle.

She's creating a dome? Dick didn't quite understand how, but Y/N was creating an almost invisible barrier over the entire mountain of Themyscira.

Y/N finally began to slow down when the dome appeared complete, then floated down to where Dick, Calliope and other warriors crowded on the steps. She stared down at the monsters crowded on the beach, waiting for their attack.

As if realising they'd been pranked, the monsters howled and hissed as they charged at the stairs. But just as the first few creatures hit the base of the stairs, they disintegrated. Vaporised, as if they never existed.

A few more crossed the threshold to the stairs before realising they were heading to their deaths. The smart ones stood just before the stairs, growling up at Y/N as she finally floated down to the landing Dick and Calliope stood upon. As soon her feet touched solid ground, the white energy faded and Y/N dropped her lance as her knees buckled beneath her.

Dick was quick to catch her, throwing one arm under her should to hold her up and the other to gently hold her face. 'Y/N? Y/N, come on,' he said, worry threatening to overcome him.

Relief washed over him as Y/N's eyes fluttered open. 'Dick?' she asked, taking in her surroundings as she stood up properly. 'What happened? What's going on?'

'You just single-handedly saved us, Princess,' Calliope injected, turning to her fellow warriors and igniting cheers and claps of joy and success.

'What?' Y/N finally looked down at the beach to see the hoards of monsters standing by the dome. She looked up to the top of Themyscira, admiring the dome all around them. Dick noticed a hint of fear as she looked back at him and asked, 'I did that?'

All Dick could do was nod, very aware that he still held onto her and that she hadn't pulled away yet. He had questions, so many he didn't know where to start. But the semi-shocked and fearful look on Y/N's face told him that she was not up to answering them now.

He turned to Calliope, pulling her away from the celebration she had ignited. 'We should set up a guard around the base of the dome. We can't assume this will remain all night. Echidna will try her best to bring it down and get through.'

'Then I say she can try, but she will have a fight waiting for her on the otherwise if she does manage to get through,' Calliope answered, her face and tone serious once more. 'I will set up a guard immediately. You take the princess back to the city for rest. I will join you as soon as I have set up the guard so we can discuss our next moves.'

Dick nodded his thanks as Calliope turned to speak with the warriors nearby. Gently, he grabbed Y/N's hand, drawing her attention to him. 'Hey, let's get you up to the city. We should regroup there.'

Surprisingly, she didn't fight him, but instead let him lead her through the crowd of warriors who cheered and clapped her up the stairs. Dick couldn't help but notice however that she barely paid any of them any mind. She made the climb back to the city with her head lowered and her eyes distant.

What are you thinking about? Dick wished he could read her mind like he used to. But whatever had happened to her just now, he knew this time he couldn't help her.

And that thought alone broke his heart.

~~~

Tag List:

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[talonabraxas]

“Be present as the watcher of your mind — of your thoughts and emotions as well as your reactions in various situations. Be at least as interested in your reactions as in the situation or person that causes you to react. Notice also how often your attention is in the past or future. Don’t judge or analyze what you observe. Watch the thought, feel the emotion, observe the reaction. Don’t make a personal problem out of them. You will then feel something more powerful than any of those things that you observe: the still, observing presence itself behind the content of your mind, the silent watcher.” ― Eckhart Tolle The Silent Watcher Talon Abraxas

[midnightwind]

Summary: A summons home with an air of unease. Viago's talks are always a unique agony as a de Riva.

Warnings: if you aren't okay with stabbing, violence, and poisoning, pass this by

Word count: 2367

~◇~

Renn

Return to the Nest. No eyes.

Viago

She creased the corner of the short letter on loop, folding and unfolding it, brows furrowed. It had been a very long time since Viago had summoned her like this. Granted, usually she was just a room away and he could send a servant or come himself when she was needed. Being barred from bringing anyone likely meant it was de Riva business. No eyes meant no watchers, no one waiting, no one knowing. Did he have a lead on the traitors? Were they within her own House or was this a precaution because the Diamond was compromised? Given the state of Treviso and the country at large, the chance of it being a large contract felt slim. She was already on a job, anyways, he wouldn’t burden her with a second like that.

A heavy sigh slipped free and she chewed her lip. Telling no one she was leaving felt like a terrible idea. What if the gods made a move while she was gone? If the group needed the lyrium dagger and she wasn’t there… She ran a hand through her hair almost frantically, squeezing her eyes shut as she warred with herself. She could tell Lucanis, he was a Crow, he would keep the secret. He would respect the rules. But she had already broken the rules once for him and doing it a second time caused an ugly feeling to curl in her stomach, all sharp edges and claws. She had kept quiet about Spite out of shared sympathy. This was House business and he wasn’t a de Riva. Her hand snatched a sheet of paper she kept for letters, penning a quick note.

Personal errand, will be back soon! Keep this safe in the meantime.

-R

Vague enough, left out on her table in the open, and with the ringed hilt of the lyrium dagger left atop meant it was impossible to miss. She hoped. By the time they started looking for her, she’d be back, surely. Now she just had to sneak into the Eluvian room and make it to Treviso without incident. About a fifty-fifty chance on the Crossroads having hulking brutes rampaging through the market when she passed through. The Maker had gifted her quite the lucky streak, afterall. She changed into her usual leathers, unease settling over her like a second skin. She hadn’t really been out alone in a long time. After Viago had sent her away, she always had Varric or Harding. Then it was always some variation of company from the ragtag team she had assembled. It almost felt wrong not having someone following along behind her.

Shaking herself once, she crept silently from her chambers. No one was lingering on the balcony for a blessing, but she forwent the stairs, opting instead to lower herself directly from the upper platform to the steps below. There was a quiet scuff as she landed and she held her breath, ears straining. If someone had been in the main room, they could have heard it. Pressed into the shadows and taking quick steps, she didn’t wait to see if someone was coming to investigate. The Eluvian room felt emptier, more intimidating alone. A tall monolith looming over her. She swallowed that fear and passed through. It was a quiet walk to the Treviso mirror, the Caretaker not making a comment on her lack of escort. It made her wonder if Solas wandered off like this, too, during the rebellion. It had her stomach doing a sickening flip.

She pulled her hood low to her eyes as she passed through the mirror, just another Crow in the gathered masses at the Diamond. Taking to the rooftops, she arrived at the de Riva apartments shortly after her feet touched Trevisan brickwork. The window to Viago’s office was ajar, inviting, and that made her frown. It was meant for her, that much was obvious based on the letter, but that unease lingered. Dark curtains were drawn over the egress, sending up a cloud of dust as she swung inside. Muffled coughs announced her presence to the Talon long before she stepped in front of his desk. His eyes were fixed on bundles of what she assumed were contracts, neat piles of information and receipts organized on the tabletop. He didn’t look up.

“Clumsy entrance.”

She half shrugged. “Haven’t had to sneak through a window in a while.”

A disapproving scoff was her only answer before he waved a hand towards the window. “Close it.”

Mutely she obeyed, a finality to the action as the wood thudded into place.

“Have you been keeping up with your daily doses?” He shuffled the page he had been reading to the back of the pile in front of him.

“Uh,”  she started awkwardly, blindsided by the direction of the conversation, “more or less. Some concoctions are hard to find while on the move like I was. I’ve had to take smaller doses of the rarer brews since returning. But… you didn’t have me come here in pure secrecy to ask about my poison habits, right?” A weak half smile jumped to her lips.

“A simple wonder.” He placed a palm flat over the stack of papers he had been reading, finally looking up. “One of many. Mirenna, am I a mark to you?”

The question had been uttered with a frigid edge that had every alarm bell in her mind screeching. It was the sharp danger she remembered from their early days together, the voice he had used in their training when she was too weak to pass a test. It was a knife to the heart and she felt a cold sweat coming on.

“I don’t-”

“Don’t play coy with me, child.” His voice was a whip, stealing her breath.

She swallowed thickly. “Vi, I really don’t know…” She felt lightheaded, hand clenching and unclenching next to her mageknife. Her heart was hammering against her ribs so hard she felt it would leave bruises.

He rose to his feet with a serpentine grace, slow and fluid. Dangerous. “Lucanis Dellamorte.” She felt ice in her veins as he took measured steps around the desk. “Imprisoned for a year by Zara Renata, known blood mage and Venatori leader. The Ossuary was her personal laboratory. Notes and remains recovered speak of experiments to foster demonic possessions to create more powerful abominations.” He circled her slowly, coming to a stop mere inches from her face. “But you knew that already.”

Not a question, stating the obvious. Her knees felt weak. “I…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I wanted to be sure first. After my last job, I didn’t want to waste your time-”

“No.” He cut her off sharply, his voice quivering with rage. “You wanted to protect him. Be it because you fancied him, felt sorry for him, or have proper malice for this House, I don’t know. But you lied to me, Mirenna. To me.”

If she hadn’t spent most of her life learning to fight by his hand, been taught each strike and cut of a knife under his instruction, she wouldn’t have been fast enough to deflect his blade. She had to catch his offhand with her own hand, flesh meeting blade. He hadn’t given her enough time to summon her orb. Her backstep was cut short, years of training her giving him every tell and shortcoming she had as he hooked a leg behind hers and pulled. She tried to turn the fall, to twist in the air, but he snatched the front of her leathers in a fist, pushing her forcefully into the floor. He had a knife to her throat, knee pinning her chest, and his face a cold mask of indifference. She whimpered.

“Was this a solitary betrayal or have you been working against the House this entire time?” The words were calculated, all emotion drained from them.

A wheezing breath slipped free. “Viago, I didn’t mean-”

“Are you working alone against this House?” The knife bit deep enough to draw blood.

She could feel tears stinging her eyes, her heart breaking. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, wavering. “I am not a traitor.”

There was no warning of the strike. The dagger was pressed to her neck one second and then buried deep in her shoulder in the next. Her training allowed only a quiet choking noise in place of a scream, the pain white hot and blinding. Unbidden, her body reached for the Fade in self defense. She wanted to shout a warning to him as the familiar connection was made, unable to stop the electric swell of her magic, but there was an agonizing twist in her lungs instead. The magic was a screaming fury in her veins, molten fire replacing her blood. He almost had a look of pity in his eyes as she writhed.

“A clean entrance would have spared you that torture.” For a moment, he was simply her teacher again, no malice or disappointment in the words. Simple fact to teach a lesson.

She wanted to laugh. That hadn’t been dust. Viago would never have his home be that unkempt, she should have known better. Instead a choking wheeze slipped free, a smile that was more bared teeth than mirth on her lips. It all hurt.

“Did Dellamorte put you up to this?” He slipped so easily back into interrogating her.

“No,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears slipping free, “I was scared.”

The pressure on her shoulder lightened slightly. “That’s not enough, Mirenna.”

She struggled for a moment to pull in enough air to speak. He simply waited. “Wouldn’t have been fair.” Shallow breaths wheezed out the words. “His secret.”

“Is your loyalty to House Dellamorte or House de Riva?” He was leaning on the dagger once more and this time it dragged a low keening from her.

“To you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Still not enough.”

“Didn’t want to tell you.” Her teeth were grit as if she could cage the confession behind them. “Solas used blood magic. He’s in my dreams. Felt too similar.”

Through the haze of agony, she caught the brief flash of horror across his face. His weight disappeared and she pulled in a shivering breath. It left her in a painful fit of coughing, but she didn’t move otherwise. He paced twice from her to the desk and back. A manic energy seemed to hum in his veins. Distantly she could hear the sound of crumpling paper as he clawed hands onto the desk.

“I’m taking you off the contract.”

“Too late, Vi.” She was trying to smile again, a twisted facsimile. “No one else can do this. Too deep.”

“I am your Talon.” Swift and sharp, like a crack of thunder. “You work the contracts I say. You walk away when I say.”

Her head lolled slightly to the side. “Can’t put Solas in anyone else’s mind. That’s beyond you. Crossroads won’t know your next agent. Team won’t trust them. You’d doom the world.”

Something crashed to the floor, glass breaking. “Damn it, Renn, I sent you away to keep you out of trouble.”

“Trouble finds me.” She whispered.

A long silence stretched between them, the only sound her labored breaths. Faintly she could hear a drawer being opened, bottles being shuffled as he rummaged inside it. When he loomed over her suddenly she tried to smile. He dumped a vial into her mouth as her reward. Part of her wondered if he was simply done with her, the final draught he would gift. She swallowed it anyway. He was gone in the next breath and she simply laid on the floor waiting to see if death came to visit. The agony in her veins slowly burned away, leaving her with the throb of the knife in her shoulder. Slowly, achingly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her leg felt bruised from his strike, throat stinging from the knife, shoulder agony, body aching from the poison, hand screaming. But she was alive.

He was sitting at his desk again, his head resting in one hand as he poured over his paperwork. “Get out.”

She lingered on the floor, letting the pain settle into her bones, until he looked up just enough for her to see his eyes. They were sharp, furious, but in the depths, buried deep, there was guilt. He blamed himself for giving her the job, didn’t he? Her laugh was a wheezing bark, tears streaming down her cheeks before she could stop them. It was never supposed to be this messy, but wasn’t that the story of all her jobs? Swaying to her feet, she dragged herself to his desk. Wrapping a hand around the hilt of his dagger, she pulled it out steadily and deposited it on the nearest stack of papers. Ruby red blood spread like greedy fire across the parchment. With a half bow, she saw herself out through the door.

A trail of blood followed her through the apartments and out into the streets. There was a ground entrance she could use in the Diamond, a long climb along stairs back to the mirror, but it would be easier than the ziplines and trellises. She was maybe halfway back when a familiar shadow dropped from the rooftops next to her. She gave him a bright smile as he pulled his hood down.

“Oh, I think I know you.” She swayed on her feet as Lucanis braced her with a hand on her good shoulder.

“Rook, what happened? We’ve been tearing the Lighthouse apart trying to find you.” His concern was almost absent as he pulled at her leathers to examine her wound. He sucked air through his teeth. “Mierda, that’s deep.”

“Hmm, Viago doesn’t hold back.” She could feel a sob trying to claw up her throat. “He found out I lied.”

His face fell into a grim understanding. He ducked under her good arm, wrapping the other around her waist. “Let’s get you home.”

A wheezing laugh shook her shoulders as she leaned heavily against him. “I’d settle for the Lighthouse instead, I think.”

[cybershock24601]

The Rookanis brainworms got me again bc I’ve gone from wouldn’t it be funny if my Rook and Lucanis crossed paths for a moment before Veilguard and never realized it to formulating a whole au where Rook and Lucanis had a long distance friendship that just started to turn into something more right before Rook gets kicked out of the mourn watch and Lucanis gets stuck in the Ossuary. Rook writes like three letters to try and make extra sure that Lucanis knows what happened and that she’s going to be traveling and likely won’t be able to get any letters but she will write when she’s able to so she’s not super concerned when she doesn’t hear anything from him even if she does have a lot of anxiety about the situation she’s doing her best to bury because sure they’re both busy but surely Lucanis would try to get at least one letter to her, she did tell him that he could always leave a message with Myrna and Vorgoth to pass on, why hasn’t he sent her anything??

Meanwhile Lucanis is imprisoned in the Ossuary and all of Watcher Rook’s babbling about spirits had made it easier to deal with Spite but it’s still a very shitty situation. Spite’s probably even more fixated on Rook in this au because Lucanis wants to get out for a lot of reasons and see his family too but Rook’s probably the only person Lucanis wants to see again that he doesn’t have a lot of complicated emotions about because sure the whole long distance thing isn’t a neat situation, Rook doesn’t come with the same sort of emotional baggage Caterina and Illario have.

Anyways, the events of Veilguard happen and Neve suggests they go recruit the Demon of Vyrantium and Rook’s like sure and hopes that while in Antiva she might get a chance to track down her wayward crow. Rook does not know that the famed Demon of Vyrantium is her crow because it’s not like Lucanis ever really told her exactly who he was in the Crows. Rook knew he was a crow, had a complicated relationship with his grandma and cousin, and that Lucanis tended to play a lot of things close to the chest but seeing as Rook is also from a pretty secretive organization, she was never really that bothered by it because it’s not like she doesn’t have her own secrets to keep. Rook may like Lucanis but it’s not like she’s going to be spilling the secrets of the Necropolis to him and assumes Lucanis is dealing with the same thing which for the most part is true. It’s also that Lucanis liked just being Lucanis with Rook rather than Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium and didn’t want things to change with Rook if he told her about what exactly his position in the Crows was. Honestly Rook probably wouldn’t have cared that much beyond hitting him with a ‘that’s rough buddy’ and probably encouraging him to try to say no to his grandmother more. (“Have you tried telling her no? It’s just two letters. One syllable. It shouldn’t be that hard to say!”)

Which is a good thing because when Rook goes to meet with the Crows she’s starting to put the pieces together pretty quickly about who Lucanis is to the crows once she meets the talons + Illario and is doing her best to play it cool. Rook’s attempts at composure are not helped by being hit with the double whammy of her kinda boyfriend is dead no wait actually he’s alive he’s just been in the hands of the Venitori for a year. Which is totally not going to give Rook a guilt complex about the fact that her bf has been presumed dead for year and Rook didn’t even know.

Neve and Harding who came along to recruit their assassin (because this is my au and I can have a four person party if I want) are definitely noticing something is up but don’t get a chance to pump answers out an unusually quiet Rook (a quiet Rook is never a good sign) before they find Lucanis and are witness to the most emotionally charged yet emotionally stunted reunion they’ve ever seen. Neve and Harding are definitely trading glances between them like ‘are you seeing this shit?!’ as Rook and Lucanis have the most awkward reunion ever.

Rook is dealing with a lot of new information at once and a lot of guilt over the fact that she didn’t know her boyfriend was supposedly dead and had just been worried that maybe he didn’t like her anymore and would she ever have even found out what happened to Lucanis if she didn’t need his help to kill some ancient eleven gods? She’s even more guilty about the fact that he’s been trapped and tortured for a whole year and again Rook did not know!

Lucanis on the other hand is increadibly surprised to see Rook of all people in the Ossuary and almost thinks it’s some sort of dream that’s she’s in here rescuing him because how many times has he imagined something like that? He’s also dealing with a Spite who’s extra determined to talk to Rook and also the whole fact that he’s an abomination now and has a lot of feelings about that.

The first exchange between these two lovers goes something like this “you have a beard now. it looks.. nice.” “thank you? I didn’t really have a chance to shave in here” “that makes sense” cue awkward silence. Luckily Neve and Harding are there to get things back on track. Somewhat.

Anyways, the slow burn of the canon rookanis romance becomes two people learning to reconnect and navigate a very complex tangle of emotions after everything that happened in their year apart. Might write a fic about all this but I needed to get my idea out in the world one way or another.

Other au highlights include:

Rook and Lucanis met because Lucanis had to assassinate a mortalitasi and is sneaking in through the garden while Rook is there decompressing after dealing with the asshole and they both freeze. Lucanis is trying to decided whether he has to kill her and Rook just goes “guy you’re looking for is two floors up and three rooms to the right. good luck” Lucanis is like why are helping me to which Rook responds “this is the fourth time in as many weeks I’ve had to come deliver the same letter of censure to this guy for trying to supersede the royal charter and have to take time out of my day to come out here one more time I’m going start biting people. you’d really just be doing a public service getting rid of this guy”

Lucanis is the reason Rook switched to fighting with an arcane orb rather than a more traditional staff and helped her a lot with close quarters combat. He also gifted her a spellblade and was almost surprised that giving someone a knife worked.

The knife also tipped off Caterina that whoever this rando showing up to ask the Crows for help has some connection to Lucanis because of course Caterina would recognize the work of her grandson’s favorite blacksmith.

Illario only found out his cousin was involved with someone after Lucanis “died” and ended up going through his things because sure Illario might have ordered his death but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sad about it. Hidden under the floorboards is a small elegant lockbox filled with letters and a wyvern tooth dagger and Illario had a whole lot of feelings reading them and the slow transition from letters to love letters. Illario doesn’t realize it’s Rook though because Rook wasn’t going by Rook back then and was signing her letters with her government name.

[lemonmoxy]

Death Calling

Summary: Rook is a clever mage, Lucanis knows saving Treviso is the wrong call. He doesn’t expect them to come, no matter how insistent Spite is that they will. When he sees them, a dragon in hot pursuit, he wishes they hadn’t.

The moment Lucanis admits he’s in love with Rook, at least to himself.

(No required reading of the other parts, although, it obviously adds to it.)

read on Ao3

It is just Mimir who goes to Treviso. The tactical part of Mimir’s brain knew it was a mistake. Neve had been honest when she said Minrathous was the target more worthy of protection. However, to also be honest, Mimir almost never listens to the tactical part of their brain. You couldn’t be a good Mourn Watcher if you were too logical. It was about emotion. And, emotionally speaking, Mimir doesn’t want to be the kind of person who sacrifices a civilian city. However, they can’t abandon such an important target, so Mimir does something stupid. They send everyone to Minrathous, and they go by themself to Treviso. 

There is something like a plan buzzing in Mimir’s brain. Although it’s more like a gambit than an actual plan. They’ll need hands to accomplish it. Mimir pauses and watches a block of Treviso get eviscerated by falling icicles the width of a small bear. A hysterical laugh bubbles in their mouth. They can’t waste time looking for Lucanis and other talons. They ran for the Cantori Diamond instead. Nobody important will be there, but Mimir bets the fledglings will be sheltering there. They hate to involve them. Most of the fledglings are just teenagers, and it’s completely possible that they’ll all die doing this. However, Mimir doesn’t have time to think of anything else, so they don’t try. 

And Mimir is right. Jacobus and other fledgelings are there. 

“Rook!” He greets them, running right over. Mimir has never entered the casino at ground level before. It’s a glittering jewel of greed and hubris even empty. It feels a little on the nose for Mimir to be here with the plan that they have.

Mimir’s smile is manic but Jacobus is too happy to see them to notice. “I knew you’d come!” He looks at Mimir like they’ve already saved the city. (Mimir starts to calculate the odds of them all dying and then punts that part of their brain out the metaphorical window). “The talons told us to stay here, when our city is-” 

Mimir pulls a face. “I really hate to ask you to break orders.”

Jacobus’s eyes, on the other hand, light up. “Tell us to break orders,” he insists. 

Mimir doesn’t bother to go upstairs. They don’t have time for stairs. They produce the same chalk from their shorts that they always keep there and just start sketching out a sigil on a wicked grace table. 

“Can you, and four other crows copy this sigil where I tell you to?” Mimir asks, looking up at Jacobus with serious eyes once they’ve finish sketching it. “It has to be perfect, Jacobus, perfect.” They tap it for good measure. “Exactly like this.”  

Jacobus looks at it with the same amount of fervor and then turns to select a few fledglings.

“Do you trust them?” Mimir asks. Jacobus nods. Mimir can’t question him more than this. They just have to trust him.

The fledglings start sketching the sigil as quickly as they can with ink on paper. Mimir watches them for a moment, checking their lines. For a moment they feel like they’re back at the Necropolis working as a teaching assistant to one of the senior watchers, but then they hear a dragon roar. 

“Do you have a map?” Mimir has to go to the next stage of the plan. People are dying. They’ll get it right or they’ll all die, there’s no time for double checking. 

A fledgling Mimir doesn’t know brings one over. Mimir spreads it over a different gambling table. They scan the map looking for the perfect spot. They need a park, or some large mostly empty space within the city where they can fight a dragon without damaging the whole fucking city. 

“What are you looking for?” Jacobus asks when Mimir takes too long for everyone’s fraying patience. The dragon sounds very close, and the glittering chandeliers rattle dangerously. 

Mimir tells him their specifications and Jacobus points to the perfect spot immediately. It’s even close. Mimir throws their arm around his neck for a tight hug. They pull away just as quickly as they hug him, because there really is not time, and they sketch out a pentagram over the map, with the park at the center. They circle the points of the pentagram and then point to the selected fledglings with their chalk one by one. “You need to go to these spots and draw the sigil. The sigil must be exact. You have some wiggle room with these spots but it does need to be as exact as you can get it.” They drop their pack from their shoulder and kick it so the contents scatter. They don’t have time to dig. The ink containers spill out and Mimir picks them up and passes them out. “You need to use this. Don’t lose it. Don’t break it.”

Jacobus picks up the ink containers that couldn’t fit in Mimir’s small hands in one go and helps them pass then out. “What are we doing?”

Mimir lips thin. “We’re going to draw on the power of the spirits that surround Treviso.” Everyone stares at them. “It’s a stupid idea.” They admit. “It’s forbidden, even for Mourn Watchers. Old magic.” Mimir’s specialty is ancient Nevarran history (or what it would have been if they had bothered to do their thesis). Technically speaking, they shouldn’t even know this spell, but the Necropolis has few doors that it locks to Mimir, and they liked to look. “But I’m going to…” Mimir paused the technical explanation to instead give an explanation that the fledglings would understand, “-supercharge myself on spirit magic and then drag the dragon out of the sky. Speaking of, do you have ballista bolts?” 

“Yes,” another crow says, “But the ballistas don’t work.”

“I just need the bolts, get them to that clearing. And the strongest chain you can find.” The fledgling takes off. 

“You think this will work?” Jacobus asks. 

“I think this is my only idea.” 

“Ok.” Jacobus says, likely because the Talons didn't have a plan. 

Mimir looks at the fledglings who are going to draw the sigil. “If you die, if you don’t make it, everyone dies. So don’t do that.” Then they add, “Destroy the copies you made as soon as you finish the sigil.”

One of the fledglings asks why. Mimir smiles. “Because if you’re seen with that, the Mourn Watch will do everything in their power to have you killed.” The room goes still. 

Jacobus asserts his control over the group with a snap in his voice. “Mimir never came here, and we never left the building.” Every fledgling nods. 

Jacobus grabs their shoulders before Mimir can pick up their staff. “You don’t die either.” 

“The plan doesn’t involve me dying,” Is all Mimir can promise, then they have to leave. 

A few Fledglings offer to go with Mimir but they refuse. “I’m a death mage, people don’t see death coming.” They say with a smile. This isn’t true, but it is true that when Mimir is determined, the Antaam just can’t catch them. They get there without any serious altercations. The fledgling they sent ahead is nowhere in sight, but the bolts are waiting for them in an obvious spot (under a painted crow).  

The ground is dirt, but Mimir had anticipated that. They pour paint from a can onto the ground. The world tunnels as Mimir focuses on getting this right the first time. The sigil has to be perfect and Mimir doesn’t have enough paint for a lot of redos. 

They had kind of lied to the kids. The plan is not to draw on spirits of the Fade. That would (most likely) just unleash an army of corrupted wild spirits mad with fear from the death surrounding them. Mimir couldn’t risk that. The plan is instead going to be to draw on the already dead. The air is steeped with entropy as people died to the dragon, to the Antaam, to rubble falling.

What happens to souls after death is something that hasn’t been proven. Those who follow Andraste in the south say that souls go to the bosom of the Maker. Nevarrans say they go to the Fade. No one has proven anything. However, souls are real, tangibly so. Death mages can fuel themselves off living souls, though it usually kills the living souls in the process. Souls are, to be unsympathetic for a moment, energy. Specifically, they are energy for someone in Mimir’s position, as a soul focused Mourn Watcher, to use. This spell wouldn’t target the energy of living souls, thankfully. The recently dead, whose souls hadn’t yet gone wherever souls go when people do pass, that is what fuels this spell.   

There is death in the air, and it would be a waste not to use it. Mimir thinks with bleak humor as they kick off their boots. They were from Lucanis and they didn’t want to ruin them. 

This spell is made for this situation, made for someone like Mimir, reckless, desperate, but reactive. It’s the only comfort they can allow themself before they step into the sigil and accept whatever is going to happen to them. There’s no way to tell if the spells will work until it is too late to escape it. Standing in the center of the sigil, they could feel when the last sigil was drawn somewhere out in the city. The spell is complete. They pull their rarely used staff from their back and twist it. I’ll make your enemies die screaming. Mimir promises the dead as they seep their magic into the sigil, binding their own soul to the ritual. 

The city, the recently dead, scream out in fear, and in rage. It’s like Mimir could hear the city itself begging for help, begging to be avenged. Mimir twists and dips their staff, moving their feet in a slow steady beat. The soundless screaming of the dead is the beat Mimir must match. They had seen the steps painted on a wall they were never supposed to find, deep in the Grand Necropolis. They had practiced it, laughing with the old spirits who came to watch and correct their steps. 

Nothing happens at first and then, and then their body floods with entropic magic. It felt sort of like being set on fire and rotting from the inside out all at once. It had been a long time since Mimir had done something so deeply fucked up to their own body. But they can't stop. It's too late to stop. All that's left is to try. 

It takes seconds for their nose to start to bleed. Their ears feel wet and it probably isn’t tears running from their eyes either. 

The problem with dragons, Mimir thinks hysterically, is their wings and breath. There’s no reason for the dragon to land. It could fly around and breathe them to death at its leisure, that was why Mimir had seized on this plan. So, I’ll just make landing it’s only option. 

Mimir blinks the blood out of their eyes and lifts up one of the huge ballista bolts, and the chains. They fuse together with nothing but Mimir’s (with the dead’s) will. Mimir looks up at the sky, ignoring the rotting feeling inside them, curling deep within their gut and up their throat. The dragon is finally in range. They throw the ballista with all their strength and the air cracks.

~X~

Lucanis knows Rook isn’t coming. They are a clever mage. Treviso is a lifeline for Northern Thedas, a civilian port, but that meant little if the gods won. And if the gods took Minrathous, the Tevinter Empire, they might just do that. Rook is kind, but they aren’t stupid. 

Liar! Spite howls. Rook won’t leave us here!

Lucanis worries for Rook’s safety - should they live long to reunite. Spite won’t be able to understand why they never came. 

He has been fighting, for how long he does not know. He’s no closer to thinking of a way to kill a dragon. He hasn’t found Illario, Viago, or Teia. It is several bloody minutes before finally he finally hears Viago issuing commands and he rushes over. 

“Where’s Mimir?” Is the first thing Viago asks when he sees Lucanis rushing to him. Lucanis has never understood the relationship between the two of them. Whenever anyone asked they had simply said “pen pals”, or that was what Mimir had said. Viago had said they were a “consultant” - Teia had specified that they were unpaid, which lends more credibility to Mimir’s claim that they were penpals.

Death. 

“Not coming.” Lucanis says and feels a rush of frustration and anger when Viago looks like he doesn't believe him. 

Death calling. 

“Minrathous has its own dragon.” Lucanis says, as a quick explanation. Viago looks gutted. Teia looks horrified. 

Listen!

“Alright.” Viago says after taking a moment to gather himself. “Then-”

LISTEN!

Lucanis spins to where Spite is. The demon is looking up into the sky, at the dragon, scanning the horizon, like he expects to see Rook fall from the sky. When Lucanis knows they aren't coming. That it's stupid and painful to hope. 

“Would you shut up!” Lucanis’s temper cracks. 

Then the air cracks.

Several people fall over as the air seems to shake. Windows all down the street that hadn’t already shatter. 

“Maker!” Viago grabs his ears, stumbling. Teia catches him, clutching one ear with her free hand. 

“Meirda!” Lucanis’s ears ache and he staggers from the sheer volume of the sound. Instinctively his eyes dart to the sky, following to where Spite is looking. 

The dragon has been pierced through the leg by a ballista. He blinks. No, there’s a chain attached. The chain is glowing a familiar green. Death magic. Spite says, and this time Lucanis believes the demon. Then the dragon’s flight pattern staggers. Lucanis gaps. Gasps go up all around him. Lucanis watches as the dragon circles around, its movements restricted as the chain pulls tighter, pulling down. 

HELP! Spite demands and Lucanis, again, listens. He turns on his heel and follows the chain. He’s racing across the city, killing any Antaam that try to slow him. 

The chain is coming from a large clearing. There is someone standing at the center of a magical glyph. They are glowing so bright with magic that Lucanis’s vision spots when he looks directly at them. He can tell that they are, vaguely, person shaped and that the energy is flowing from them into the chain. 

ROOK!

Lucanis can’t imagine it is, but then he notices the boots laying not far from them. 

“MIMIR!” He darts forward. 

“Don’t!” Mimir’s voice is a taut cord. “If you get too close.” They gasp. “It will hurt.”

Fade. Death. Rot. HELP!

Lucanis ignores Spite, not daring to disobey Mimir’s direct orders. “What can I do?” He asks. “You came.” He can’t believe it. He still doesn’t believe it’s Mimir’s voice coming from that glowing shape. If it’s a demon, it knows just what to say.

“Prepare for-” Mimir takes a deep pained breath. “-a fight.” They pull. The dragon topples down into the courtyard. 

Mimir steps out of the sigil and the brightness fades. They look worse than they had when they first met. Mimir’s white hair is so soaked that you couldn’t see its natural curl. Nor could you tell it’s real color, instead it looks a deep red. Their cheeks are streaked with drying blood. Their mouth and teeth are red. Their neck and ears have blood dripping down, streaking down their neck. The blood still dripping looks wrong in a way that he can’t understand, like it's spoiled. But their eyes are still glowing with death magic. He can’t see their pupils or irises, he can’t understand how they can see through the glow. Mimir’s grin is feral as they quickly spin the chain around their shoulder, so they can keep it on them. And they sprint without hesitation at the dragon, barely ducking out of the way of a blast of ice. Lucanis follows them without any hesitation.

They can't manage to kill the dragon. Lucanis is sure they could have. If it hadn’t just been him and Mimir. If Mimir hadn’t been so weakened by whatever fucked up spell they cast.

A pitched battle ensues. Mimir unleashes the last of their pent up magic and rots the dragon's scales, weakening it enough that Lucanis can get a dagger through its thick hide. Spite and his Fade wings are needed for Lucanis to twist through the ice breath enough to get close to get underfoot of the dragon. He didn’t know where dragons were weak, but with Mimir’s rot, he didn't need to. He sticks it in the stomach and the scales that his daggers had been glancing off of are now nothing, he sinks it in. The dragon thrashes and Spite whirls them away, out of the dragon’s path. 

The dragon is focused on him now, giving Mimir the chance to get up on the dragon unmolested. They dash, fearlessly at the dragon, rolling under it. On their back, underneath the dragon (in a terribly vulnerable position that makes Lucanis want to scream at whoever trains those of the Mourn Watch) they kick the dagger deep inside the dragon. The dragon howls and Lucanis’s eardrums quake. 

The dragon flees back to its monstrous mother. Mimir staggers up, before the dragon is fully out of their now insane range, and runs for the glyph.

STOP THEM!

If Spite thinks it’s a bad idea, Lucanis doesn’t hesitate. He locks his arms around Mimir as they run by. They momentum brings them up, but not forward. Their legs kick at the air as they try to break his grasp. However, Mimir is shit at breaking locks when they don’t cheat by using their monstrous strength.

“LET GO! LUCA! IT’S GETTING AWAY!” 

“It’s over! Rook! Rook, you did it. You saved Treviso!” Mimir’s foot catches his stomach and knocks the wind out of him. It’s an amateur move on his part. He had been taking his submission hold on Mimir lightly, because he knew just how terrible they were at even attempting to break at a lock. He goes to the ground and loses his grip on them as he wheezes trying to get the breath back in him.

“Don’t go. Don’t cast it again.” Lucanis begs. 

Mimir pauses, finally seeming to come back into themself. The glow in their eyes had left them sometime during the fight, but they hadn’t seemed fully there, even after the visible magic had faded. 

“Ok. I won’t.” Instead they go to the glyph and kick at the soil, breaking it. The moment the first line is disrupted, there is a sickening crack and the ground seems to implode on itself, turning quickly into a sinkhole that Mimir has to jump back from falling into. 

“What..." Lucanis breathes, incredulous as the bizarre reaction. "What exactly did you do?” He asks, feeling baffled by what he’s seeing. 

Mimir turns back to him with a smile on their cracked lips. They open their mouth to answer and then immediately vomit up blood and something clumpy and black. 

“Mimir!” Lucanis scrambles to his feet, racing towards them but he doesn't manage to reach them before they hit the ground.

Mimir lands on their hands and knees, coughing out black sticky ichor and a worrying amount of blood. 

Spite hovers over them. DO SOMETHING!

Lucanis isn’t a healer, Mimir is the healer. They keep coughing. Lucanis hovers, afraid to touch them. “I’m fine.” Mimir says through wet coughs.

“I think you are lying.” Lucanis says. His stomach is turning with worry.

Their eyes harden for a moment and Lucanis stiffens. He is sure they are about to tell him that they are dying. “You can’t tell anyone what happened.” They say. “That spell is very, very forbidden, Lucanis. And I’m not supposed to know it. Just tell them I did something stupid, like show the dragon I had the knife. That sounds like me.” 

Lucanis definitely can’t promise that. More people than he can silence definitely saw Mimir pull a dragon out of the sky. His heart stutters on that. Mimir had come here alone (not for him, he reminds himself) to save a city (his city, his heart insists).

Told you. Spite boasts, he’s hovering around Mimir, his hands ghosting over their back. 

“Lucanis.” Mimir whines, getting his attention back. “Promise.” He can tell from how his eyes ache and the faint glow radiating them that they’re healing whatever damage the spell did to them. 

Lucanis deflects from an unkeepable promise (though he’s already thinking how he will keep anyone from figuring out what spell Mimir used) “Forbidden? For its side effects?”

“Yeah, well, for a lot of reasons, but yeah, if you don’t do it right… well the least bad thing that can happen is you blow yourself up, obliterate your soul, or/and become the host of thousands of undead souls.” They pause. “But really nobody knows what happens to people’s souls when they die. Or they don’t have proof, so thpse last two might not even be possible.” 

“What.”  

Spite stops petting Mimir’s back. Instead he kind of looks like he wants to throttle them (and for just one second, Lucanis contemplates letting him). STUPID! He says. Tell them! His purple eyes flick to him. Right now! He insists. STOP GAWKING! AND TELL THEM!

Mimir looks at him, and then to where they can vaguely sense Spite is, and gives them a smile that breaks Lucanis and makes Spite grow quiet. It’s so bright. “Wasn’t it so amazing?” Their eyes glitter. “I was amazing.” They laugh as if they can’t quite believe it. “It’s been thousands of years since it’s been cast. And I did it perfectly. First try.” They sound smug. 

It should be insufferable but Spite and Lucanis can’t help but stare at how bright Mimir shines. They laugh so brightly the air around them seems to shimmer despite the smoke. 

“But I might need you to carry me home.” They blink, suddenly realizing what they said, despite everything they blush. “I meant to say the Lighthouse, I don’t know why I said that.” They laugh, and the blood in their teeth doesn’t make it any less cute.  

Lucanis’s anxiety unknits and all he can think is, oh. Mimir is here. Mimir saved his home. Mimir risked everything to save his home, just like Spite had believed they would. 

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” Lucanis tells them and he means it. Spite paces around them, eager for him to scoop up Mimir and take them away. 

Mimir laughs. “Oh, now I feel like I should take advantage of this.” 

“Ok.” Lucanis agrees immediately. “Do it.” 

Mimir smiles. “I wish I could.” They sigh. “But the only place I want to be is at the Lighthouse, eating something warm, maybe a blanket.” They make a face. “After a long thorough bath. But... but we need to go to Minrathous first. To make sure everyone's ok.”

Lucanis lifts them. He wants to argue but he knows he won't get anywhere, and he's worried too. “I’ll cook whatever you want.” Lucanis promises as he makes their way to the Eluvian. 

“I like whatever you make.” Mimir says with an honesty that makes Lucanis’s stomach curl like a schoolboy put on the spot. 

Not true. They don’t like meat. Spite is quick to tell him. They smile more when they have fruit. 

“You’re impossible.” He rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry about your dagger. It’s in a dragon now.” 

Lucanis laughs loudly. “I’m not. I’m not sorry at all. I have more daggers.” He is so tired, his muscles ache. His fingers are trembling from effort, but he feels nothing (Nothing but warmth). Of course, this feeling will end when they reach Minrathous and see what a city without Mimir looks like.

[k-didathing]

Startober Day 9: Winged/Dangerous

(Applestruda posting Stareater fan art has inspired me to post this lil Grian fic I never released)

Grian wasn’t sure what he was anymore. He was neither animal nor human, neither living nor dead, neither organic nor robotic. He was completely one of a kind, which might sound nice on paper, but it was really the loneliest thing someone could be.

He stood on all fours, his metal limbs scraping against the ground. He tried to speak, but all that came out of his mouth was a low moaning sound, unnatural and animalistic. He tried to move, but the weight of his wings chained him in place. He tried to look around, but all he could do was peer straight ahead out of the bird-like mask affixed to his face.

Grian’s eyes snapped open, and he sat straight up in his creaky, makeshift bed. His eyes immediately fell on his arm, its metallic surface glinting in the early morning light, and it was almost enough to make him double over in horror. For a brief moment, he thought he was that thing from his dreams, all cold and sharp and meaningless. He tried to shake this belief away by standing up, but he cringed at the way his metal talons bent and tapped against the floorboards. Then the sudden presence of a weight nearly toppled him over, and his wings, the cause of the weight, instinctually flared out to balance him, the tips of the feathers brushing against the opposite wall.

Memories of what had transpired the previous days flooded his mind:

A sickly sweetness encompassing his lungs, making the world distant and hollow.

The muffled sounds of drilling, of sawing, and of dark, ancient words being sung over him. 

A cold dread creeping over him, grasping him, and forcing him to face the consequences of his choices for years to come, maybe even for forever.

Grian stumbled into the bathroom, the light immediately responding to his presence by flickering on. When he looked in the mirror, he barely recognized his face. Nearly all of his feathers had been removed, and new pin feathers were just beginning to take their place, making him look like some sort of half-plucked cyborg chicken. His metal hands now had four fingers, each tipped with a razor-sharp claw, a bit like those of an Ender. But the worst part was the wings. They curved in unnatural shapes behind him, sprouting feathers that he would one day be able to fly with, not like that made things any better.

His hands gripped the edges of the sink in front of him, his metal claws making a sickening screech against its rim.

What was he anymore?

Was this all people would think of him from now on? 

A criminal?

A freak? 

An anomaly?

What will they take from me next? He wondered. It seemed like nothing was safe.

But there was one thing the Watchers wouldn’t steal from him.

He would make sure of it.

(AU by @skimmeh and @kairamuwu)

[solargeist]

The Watchers in my AU are meant to be complicated and confusing. It’s part of why Grian stays for so long, why he’s so conflicted and why it bothers him to the point of venting to Mumbo.

They can be very kind, they do love him, they compliment him on everything. He gets gifts and everything given to him.

But on the other hand, bc they love him, they can be critical, telling him why that and why this, not that not this, they have pretty high standards for Beings that have seen everything already, not easy to genuinely impress.

They give him food, as parental figures should, anything he asks, but that’s sorta the problem, he always has to ask, there’s no way around this, no independence. He can ask for ingredients to cook by himself, but they’ll watch him.

He’s given clothes to wear, always within Watcher standard, dark and loose garments, open for his wings. He’d honestly prefer brighter colours, but that’s not rly a choice.

They tell him he’s special, he was chosen, better than the rest, a champion, a hero, and while it pets his ego, he feels pressure, they went out on a limp for him and he still can’t do enough. There is so much guilt.

Being here in the end messes with his psyche a bit, he’s much shorter than everyone, he has to rely on everyone, they all treat him like a kid, petting his hair or moving him via his shoulders instead of asking. He accidentally leans into this sometimes as a subconscious coping mechanism, he cries easier than he thinks he should. Tantrums where he has to press his face into his hands, or grumble and stomp off. He always has to apologize.

Despite being treated like a child, he is a Watcher child, so he studies a lot, he trains a lot. If he throws up from training, that’s no excuse (well by Flora’s standards)

He does feel a sort of comfort or safety around Aether, She’s lenient with him, but they’re definitely still not equals. She still hides things from him She thinks is too serious, She’s still overtly positive. He thinks abt Her sometimes, in hindsight he knows it was a family dynamic, and he feels guilt abt this too.

The Watchers love him, but they are ultimately overbearing, overwhelming, and frankly quite scary if you don’t play by their rules. Grian has reason to be cautious, the silent threats that hang over his head, never directly said to him, but traitors are cast out, if you’re not worthy you don’t deserve these gifts of wings or eyes. I think he’s convinced if they ever find him they’ll rip his eyes out with talons.

He won’t admit that he likes the attention sometimes, when his efforts are acknowledged and/or praised, when his hair is brushed. He wants their approval.

However, this is the only ‘human’ contact he gets. He doesn’t have anyone else, so it’s taken with a grain of salt how genuine his feelings are abt the attention.

[the-blueprint-robin]

MEMBERS OF THE JURY...

ooc post!!

hey yall, im looking for other RP blogs to kind of fill the spots of batfam/dc characters (ocs welcome) in the same universe as this blog!! reply to this if you want to take part

we got:

Bruce - @brucewayne-offic

Jason - @only-one-todd

Tim - @redtimbrs2

Steph - @plans-were-spoiled

Damian - @the-blood-son

Duke - @batsignal-irl

Barbara - @marple-miss-99

Koriand'r - @princess-koriand-r

Bart Allen - @bartie-allen

ocs: @x-talon-x, @gothams-hummingbird, @murderistaken, @prettiest-firefly, @august0bone,

@j4ck0falltrades, @just-a-ghost-watcher, @wicked-shrike

if you're a canon character thats not on the list, you are still welcome!!

[thelibrarian1895]

My Mourn Watch Rook: Don't Mess With The Mourn Watch

So romanced Lucanis and also listened to some Emmerich and Lucanis banter and thought...now there's an idea

Mourn Watch Rook adores Lucanis and will do anything and everything she can to protect him and Lucanis will do the same for her.

One crow, an idiot, thinks that trying to kill the First Talon is a good idea since the Dellamorte family doesn't have anyone else to take the role once Lucanis is gone and might let their own house rise in status.

They fail of course, even if Lucanis somehow misses the effort, Spite is keeping an eye out and Rook's work brings wisps around to watch over things. But let's say that Lucanis goes into a convenient coma. Spite is piloting the body, at least until Rook convinces them to retreat to the Lighthouse, so no one thinks the First Talon is vulnerable. They're clearly up and able to move under their own power, they just have a contract that they must immediately deal with and their girlfriend gives them, and only them out of all the Crows, access to the Crossroads. Definitely not the demon taking over while they're unconscious and possibly near death.

Rook's reaction in the aftermath however is to decide that not a single Crow is going to succeed in a contract until Lucanis tells her otherwise.

Every. Single. Contract. Will. Fail.

Specifically because the contract targets are just going to fail to die.

She'll have to recruit some other watchers to help but there's probably enough that are getting real tired of all the contracts on King Marcus and this might give them the leverage they need to have at least the crows stop accepting that particular contract. Plus in the aftermath of saving Thedas, potentially banishing the Blight, and being their sweet crypt baby, Rook is a watcher favorite.

(My Rook was 100% semi raised by Vorgoth. Myrna is essentially their cool big sister)

Teia and Viago have no sway over Mourn Watcher Rook. Yes she likes them, yes she thinks they're cool, but they're not the whole reason she even relocated to this weird country with admittedly great food but also a habit of cremation that is very unsettling. Caterina actually approves and when Lucanis wakes up she gives her opal ring to her grandson, her grandson who should be making her a great grandmother.

The Crows may rule Antiva, but death is the Watcher's domain

[animalstamp]

Nightwings Ref

Hair:

One of the few tribes that grow hair in any significant amount.

Nightwings have many hair types and textures and take their grooming very seriously.

Hair colors range from black, grey, white, and brown.

Hair can grow from their heads all the way down to their tails, even to the point of covering the tail spade.

Hair dyes have become more common since moving to the rainforest.

DO NOT touch Nightwings' hair without permission! (Warning to overly familiar Rainwings.)

Horns:

Nightwings' horns come in a variety of shapes and are covered in their scales.

*Hellish is what Nightwings call it when a dragon has multiple horns, up to a total of 6. While not necessarily attractive on its own, having a full set of horns cuts an intimidating figure.

Nightwings usually do not cut or carve their horns but might add caps or string jewelry.

Wings:

Nightwings' wings have a flap that connects to the chest that gives Nightwings’ wings the appearance of a cape.

They are one of the few dragon tribes that can hover.

When not in use they like to clip their wing talons into custom Wing Rings, it has a very long history of being fashionable.

Modern Nightwings have fewer stars than past ones and they often compensate with paint and tattoos. Being under the night sky again and some are regaining their vibrancy.

Patterns:

Colors range the whole rainbow…but dark. Dark rainbow.

Petrified/Lava started to become more common as the volcano became more active.

Bones pattern is weirdly complicated. Bones can appear relatively commonly over other patterns, but a full body Bones pattern is quite rare.

Galactic used to be more common but its link to Nightwings powers and how they appear has made the Galactic pattern endangered.

Bones and Watcher are the most intimidating and thus the most desirable.

Extra:

Nightwings have some of the strongest senses out of the tribes. Hearing, smell, and heat sense allow Nightwings to appear to still have powers.

Living on the Volcano has made modern Nightwings sense of smell and heat far better than past Nightwings.

Baby Nightwings have floppy ears.

Nightwings can hang upside down with the thanks of their posable back feet.

When wanted to get a good scent of something Nightwings will flick their tongues like a snake.

Volcano-born Nightwings appear to be “venomous”.