#worldstate : one

[leliwardens]

it's funny to see some solas fans convinced the devs hate him and that explains some of the shortcomings in the writing. when like yeah the devs do hate a character and it's every female one they ever wrote. and anders.

[corseque]

I feel like I’m going a rare kind of insane, the kind where you know for sure your favorite character is going to die and you just have to wait for it

[sadmages]

I have such a backlog of dragon age art i never posted.... Here's my main Origins crew <3

[confusedlucifer]

i've been replaying DA:O and. thinking so much about how much death and horror Tabris has seen by the time she's 23, and how many of her family and friends are dead or gone by the time she's in her mid 40s. how much time she's spent putting herself back together and becoming a leader, Warden Commander worthy of the title. how she accepted the position of Left Hand of Divine Victoria after the gay sex reform to Chantry doctrine. how despite the vast network of Chantry spies and agents continuing to search for the cure, she's content to live out the rest of her days by Leliana's side.

[blackjackkent]

Prompt fill for @thedarkstrategist from this ask meme: [ 🛁 ] - running them a bath, Shadowzel.

-----

“She is in pain,” Lae’zel says, pacing back and forth before the bar on the Elfsong’s bottom floor. The ale Karlach purchased for her sits undrunk on the wood bartop; she seems to have forgotten its existence. “And it is a pain I do not know how to soothe,” she growls. “It is maddening.”

“Yeah,” Karlach says, watching Lae’zel’s quick, restless movements with an air of sympathy. “Fucking sucks, when someone you care about is hurting. And this kind of hurt… whoof.” She breathes out, rattling her lips heavily. “I lost my parents, back before the Hells, but at least they went… normally, y’know? Bad fever, overturned cart. Things like that happen to people. This, what she had to do… that’s a whole different ball game…”

“This is not helping,” Lae’zel says curtly.

“I’m commiserating,” Karlach says with a slight shrug. “I don’t really have an answer for you. ‘s not the sort of thing you fix.”

Lae’zel comes to an abrupt halt and turns to face Karlach directly. “There must be something,” she says. “I--” She breaks off abruptly and scowls down at the battered slats of the floor. “You know of these things,” she mutters. “I do not. I must have your help.”

“These things?” Karlach cocks her head slowly to one side.

A pause. Lae’zel flushes, her jaw working with frustration at the struggle to articulate her own feelings. “Romance,” she finally says carefully. Another pause, then suddenly rapid, “No. Not romance. Something more. The gentleness that comes with it. I feel the need for it, but do not know…” She falters, her ears flushing a deep olive. “I do not know what to do.”

“Oh.” Karlach would be tempted to smile, were it not for the fact that Lae’zel looks so terribly agitated. “Well, I’ll let you in on the first secret I know,” she says, “which is that we’re all making this the fuck up as we go along. I certainly am.” She nudges the barstool next to her with her boot toe. “C'mon, sit down."

Lae'zel sits abruptly, a soldier obeying orders. Karlach studies her for a moment thoughtfully. "Y'know," she says slowly after a little while, "sometimes when my engine's real bad, Hec'll just... do things for me. Just so I don't have to. Get my dinner served up, or clean out my armor, that sort of thing. And it helps." She rubs at her jaw. "I think, with this sort of shit... it's not about fixing. Not really. It's about... just being there, and holding some of the weight. Helping her keep living, while she sorts it all out."

Lae'zel considers this with narrowed eyes. "Yes," she says slowly.

Karlach's teeth flash in a cautious grin. "We've got a proper bathroom in our rooms upstairs now. You could draw her a bath, bring her dinner after... give her a night not having to think about anything."

Lae'zel nods. "Yes," she repeats. Her whole body is stock-still except for her fingertips which fidget almost imperceptibly against the floral-carved edge of the bar. 

Karlach's smile softens. "The way Hec tells it - it'll make you feel better too," she says gently. "Maybe feel a little less like your head's eating itself alive." She claps Lae'zel on the shoulder. "Look. We're gonna make this happen," she says. "And I'll help. She likes night orchids, right? I'm gonna go right now over to Bonecloaks and shake that woman down for every blossom she's got, and then Jaheira and me'll take the boys off on an adventure for a while. Leave the rooms upstairs all yours till, say, ten o'clock?"

She doesn't expect thanks - the whole crew, by now, is well aware that Lae'zel doesn't tend to say it out loud. What she does get, though, is a sudden tight grip on her forearm from the gith's long-fingered hand; a gesture of camaraderie - or perhaps the clinging of a drowning woman to a driftwood life raft. "That is... generous," Lae'zel mutters.

"Just doing my part to make love bloom," Karlach says airily.

Lae’zel flinches, her color deepening again. “We have not spoken of love,” she says stiffly.

Karlach lifts her eyebrows innocently. “Oh, are we not saying that part out loud yet?” she asks.

“Kainyank…” Lae’zel grumbles, rolling her eyes - but Karlach notices she doesn’t argue the point.

-----

Shadowheart sits on the bed, leaning against the window, her knees drawn to her chest. She’s dimly aware that the others haven’t come back from dinner yet, but it’s hard to muster the energy to care. Ever since the House of Grief, she’s felt drained, empty, surrounded by the shattered pieces of a world she doesn’t know how to reconstruct yet. She feels broken.

There’s the soft sound of a footstep up the stairs. Rustling movement in the center of the shared floor of their lodgings. The sound of running water from the magical taps in the bathroom. Shadowheart ignores it all, focusing her eyes on the progress of a fly climbing up the outside of the window glass. 

Then-- “Shadowheart?”

Something in her heart loosens just a little, hearing Lae’zel’s voice. It’s astonishing, given how they began, the way that Lae’zel has come to mean protection, and understanding, and calm. Lae’zel is safety in a way that none of the others are, because Lae’zel too has had her life taken apart, and the two of them have built a new one out of the ashes. “Yes,” she says softly, forcing herself to stir and lift her head. “I’m here.”

To her surprise, she finds that Lae’zel is standing watching her with a bundle of deep blue flowers in one hand. The gith shifts awkwardly and then sets the plants down on the nearby table. “I--” she says haltingly. A pause, and then she presses on doggedly as if expecting a burst of laughter from some corner at any moment. “All day you have sat here alone. I have drawn you a bath. Will you come?”

“A bath?” Shadowheart tips her head, mildly bemused.

“Yes.” Lae’zel shifts her weight slowly from one foot to the other. Then she adds, almost sheepishly, “Karlach said it would help.” A pause, then so low Shadowheart almost can’t hear it, “Let me help. Please.”

A sudden tight lump settles in Shadowheart’s throat, making it hard to speak. “Lae’zel--”

“I said I would protect you,” Lae’zel mutters. “But there is no enemy to strike. There is only this. These small things. It is not much, but…” 

“No.” Shadowheart slowly uncurls herself from the tight ball in which she has spent the last few hours. The barest hint of a smile pulls at her lips for the first time in days. It’s not about the bath, not really - she didn’t need or even really want one. It’s the reminder that there is more around her than the impenetrable shadow Shar has draped over her world. That Lae’zel is driving it back with both fists, even when she doesn’t think she knows how.

“No,” she repeats softly. “That sounds perfect.”

[vigilskeep]

um calenhad aeducan lore. known fondly as prince cal by the people of orzammar and also me. he’s called that after the founder of the theirin line, because after ferelden successfully rebelled against orlesian rule, orzammar was like oh fuck we’ve got to repair that relationship as if we didn’t just sit by the whole time that was happening. so there were a bunch of these kind of uh diplomatic publicity stunts happening around the time he was born. and nothing about his life has ever not been someone else’s angle

his mother was one of endrin’s lesser concubines from a lower status house, and every jealous eye turned in her direction when she bore the king a son. despite that, endrin’s queen took her and the baby under her wing. it wasn’t entirely altruistic. the queen had no sons of her own, so cal could serve instead as her “contender” for heir against trian, the son of her long-time rival, a favoured concubine called lady rosdrada. the queen also happened to be a notable warrior, a powerful reaver, who died years later on a deep roads expedition under mildly suspicious circumstances, with many blaming lady rosdrada. (she was never publicly accused but neither did the king ever marry her and allow her to rise to the queen’s vacant place, a fact bitterly resented by her faction.)

cal’s mother, who returned the queen’s protection and favour with fierce loyalty, was first among rosdrada’s accusers. furious that punishment never came, she changed almost overnight from a shy, humble woman to a politician who could in her own right engage in the life or death battle for succession, raising her son to be the fulfilment of the late queen’s ambitions. he was trained since childhood in both the ways of princely charm and the ways of a reaver warrior, all to be the vengeance of a woman whose face he sometimes struggles to remember. perhaps there was a time, as boys, when he tried to be a brother to trian despite it all, but with his mother’s teachings always in his ears and trian less bearable each year, he’s long since accepted that deadly conflict between them is inevitable. he’s never eager to be the ruthless aeducan prince, but he’s always done his duty, however ugly. he never turns down the foul-tasting reaver concoctions, or quakes when he’s sent to the deep roads. he always defends his house’s honour and makes the point in blood. anything less is death; his mother tells him so

he doesn’t truly want the throne. he just wants more than anything to have the weight of expectations off his shoulders, and to no longer dread that his mother, his second, and all who support them will pay the deadly price of his failure. he’ll jump blindly at the chance to get this fight over with—and that’s all the opportunity bhelen ever needed

[kirkwallguy]

wait is cassandra a fujo

she secretly and ashamedly reads varric's books. and i know most of them are straight. but she has the heart and soul of a fujo who doesn't have access to yaoi yet

[sclappin]

A zine I'm contributing to has me thinking a lot about the Couslands, so I've been drawing Fergus and Oriana a bunch just to really get the feel for what they look like to me, because their in-game models look so much like multiple other NPCs.

[herssian]

unfinished portrait of a noble lady

[artist-rat]

my old and new tes character Saima <3 she’s a combination of a couple of my prev. ocs!

[danielnelsen]

oh i can also officially say that this is the entire extent of the acknowledgment of the inquisitor's relationship with dorian (ie, the full extent of the effect of one of only three worldstate options):

[ealyblu]

Ex-inquisitor Lavellan shows up at the Lighthouse with her wife(who's so done with Solas' shit) and her son(who's also so done with Solas' shit)

[veilkeeper]

my current watsonian take for why lucanis is unromanceable if treviso is blighted is not because he secretly blames rook and thus can't stand the idea of being with them, but rather because he's lost so much (between being imprisoned for a year and having his literal body be forcibly merged with a demon to losing his city and his grandmother/cousin, etc) that he can't bear the emotional vulnerability of letting in someone else he could lose.

and that's why i need macen to flirt with him and then save minrathous.

[blazingflareon]

ok so i THINK i found another dorian romance specific line??? its when asking abt spies during the first meeting with the inquisitor

this is with dorian romance (disbanded/save solas)

...and this is with a different romance (disbanded/stop solas)

if this really is romance specific its such a weird change 😂 like i get the implication but now they straight up just dont answer the question lmao 'do u have spies' 'uhhh i gotta go'

[the-prima-vista]

Since I finished Veilguard, I've spent a while thinking about how just a few choices could have been carried over in a way that wouldn't change Veilguard's story, but would allow a few of the choices in previous games to still feel like they mattered instead of the only choice that matters being did you romance Solas. (Ideas under the Read More because spoilers for the whole game)

Exile or Conscript the Wardens in DAI? This wouldn't be a choice you would really feel in game at all, just in the Inquisitor's missives, but if you conscripted the Wardens, perhaps more of them remain in southern Thedas and it fares better in the Sixth Blight instead of the 'South Thedas is basically gone' letter.

Old God Baby or Not? Instead of tying the redeem Solas option to the Mythal fragment in the Fade, perhaps the spirit of Mythal is only strong enough to speak with Solas if Flemeth was able to absorb the old god soul from Kieran in DAI. It wouldn't change anything else, but it gives (minimal) consequences to the Old God Baby choice instead of it never actually mattering.

Who Drank from the Well? Instead of it defaulting to Morrigan, Mythal should be hosted by whoever drank from the well. I hate that Morrigan will always end up as host to Mythal, when so much of her plot has been avoiding that fate, but then it makes it a consequence of her thirst for knowledge. Also it would mean that any Inquisitor who didn't romance Solas might still be relevant (if they were the one who drank).

[crysdrawsthings]

My Warden: 5'1" of pure bloodcurdling rage, saves the world and her "hometown" with the power of friendship, (blood) magic and overwhelming violence, starts a cult, besties with a dragon, delusions of godhood

My Inquisitor: tired, over-caffeinated, one woman reenactment of the Life of Brian with all the fantasy Catholics around, forced to micromanage Skyhold decorations, diplomatic relationships, tears in reality and rowdy opinionated companions, looks 50 and majorly divorced

My Rook: quips and one-liners horrid enough to give Ghilan'nain psychic damage, menace to society