#yeah the way elves see specifically killing elves as The Worst Thing Ever -

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

you just know there’s some elven supremacist assholes out there who think the problem with the third kinslaying is that the fëanorians killed Elves, Specifically, and if they’d massacred a human refugee camp for the silmaril it wouldn’t even be worth remarking on

[kradogsrats]

Do you think that Lissa hates elves and dragons?

This is an interesting question! Since the narrative goes so hard on hate being bad, understandably, what we see of the cultural animosity between humans and elves really leans toward the wacky--like Rayla's relatable jokes about humans--except when it's positioned as a threat to the main characters. Like, we're told that humans and elves hate each other and haven't mixed peacefully in centuries, and then two years after "surprise, we're all friends now!" everyone's somehow hanging out having cultural misunderstandings rather than hate-criming each other. Maybe there just hasn't been enough time for a counter-movement to gain any traction? Whatever.

Anyway, what we have in canon indicates that Callum has almost definitely never even seen an elf until Rayla. He's grown up with things like the wooden figurine showing a monstrous Moonshadow elf. Thunder killed his mother, and his aunt channeled all her grief into hating elves. Like, he literally believes Moonshadow elves drink blood, or at least believes it enough to assume that's what Rayla's red juice is. I think this is hard for most of us to relate to, like in order to wrap my mind around that kind of dehumanization I have to imagine a scenario like some kind of space alien invasion, where the enemy is literally inhuman and their hostility completely beyond understanding. It's not super surprising that the story doesn't want to dwell on it, because the more you dwell on it, the more people will draw parallels to real-world racism, xenophobia, and groups that are marginalized in ways that are really not comparable at all.

Katolis in particular (and possibly also Duren, idk I don't think about Duren a lot tbh) probably has a weird curve of resentment toward elves because on the one hand, they're a heavily militarized society specifically against Xadia--depending on how active that conflict is, there are a lot of people who have lost friends or family to it, or know someone who has. On the other hand, we straight-up have from ToX materials that humans and elves mingle fairly freely in areas near the border, crossing to trade without consequence. So outside of the military, it's actually the people further from the border who are going to hold more hatred and prejudice. They will also be the least likely to have actually encountered an elf, dead or alive, while someone living near the border may be like "oh yeah Moonshadow elves are the worst, except that guy who grows the most amazing moonberries, seriously you've gotta try these things, anyway he's a good one and we'll run anyone who gives him trouble out of town." Living in Del Bar (which shares no border with Xadia) and then in urban Katolis, I would guess Lissa's experience is much more similar to Callum's as far as experience with actual elves.

I also personally headcanon Lissa as a sort of historian-bard, so she's very familiar with both how humanity suffered after being expelled from Xadia and the atrocities humans committed against each other in the aftermath. She's trained to think critically, specifically regarding the stories humans tell themselves about the world. Like most people, I doubt she's ever seen an elf in real life. So while she's definitely not immune to the cultural bias she's steeped in, and would probably be distrustful/defensive with an elf, I think she's also a compassionate person who isn't going to kill first and ask questions later.

As for dragons... well, I imagine that Soren's whole thing with dragons and dragon-slaying comes from Lissa telling him stories, just because that strikes me as very Del Barian. But really, probably everyone is afraid of a full-grown dragon? Like, it's not clear that humans are even aware that dragons other than Archdragons are sentient? So that's like kind of like asking if you're afraid of a bear with a grenade launcher pointed at you--it's not one of my top ten daily anxieties, but it's absolutely gonna take up my entire brain if I happen to encounter it. So like... "hate" in the sense of "please stay far away and I don't want it in my proximity unless it's 110% dead" seems pretty normal.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

A Tiadrin theory

I woke up this morning with a sudden headcanon about Tiadrin, and as I poked at it, it filled out nicely, so I’m gonna go ahead and call it a theory at this point.

It gets angsty, as all good Moonshadow theories do. If your heart doesn’t weigh 6 tons by the time you reach the end of this post, I didn’t capture the feeling properly.

Several bits of detail flutter around this mysterious woman, and I’ve theorized various versions of her circumstances, her relationship with Runaan and Ethari, her former position before the Storm Spire, the reasons she went there, and the reasons Runaan was so hellbent on avenging her dishonor.

I don’t think any of them landed as well or tied together as neatly as this one, though. Hence “theory” instead of just “headcanon.” Here we go:

FIrstly, some meta information. This is a fun tweet, but in this post I’m looking directly at “belief systems as sources of both comfort and restraint” and at the “weight of guilt” and “cycles of trauma” lines, in regards to Moonshadow culture, and specifically Moonshadow assassin training.

And raise your hand if you’ve been looking further afield than the front-and-center Janaya-with-Soren nod from “ripped women who teach soft boys to stab,” because I have. TDP is full of parallels and imperfect mirrors.

So, in the spirit of soft yet angsty cycles and the ripped women who perpetuate them, Theory Part I: Tiadrin trained Runaan, because she was the leader of the assassins before he was.

She’s referred to as a mastermind. Assassin leaders need to be good with plans of all sizes. We’ve seen how Runaan silently adapts to chaos and doesn’t tell anyone what his new plans actually are. He’s a good leader. But he also had to learn those skills from someone. Whoever instructed him was a tactical genius, and also very Moonshadow, and Runaan was an adept student.

Also, Tiadrin is a goddamn badass. She’s several inches shorter than Lain, Runaan, Ethari, and Viren. But she is a powerhouse in battle. She knows her physics well enough to drag this 6′2″ human battle mage skidding across the floor. Monster thighs, monster intellect.

As a 5′4″ woman who trained in jujitsu for several years, let me just say: gender equality in battle is great, but physics does not care. It will crush your popsicle-stick ass if you try to chuck a 250 lb person across the room and your math is off. The most accurate fighters are the ones who know how hard physics hits back when you’re sloppy.

Tiadrin earned every inch of respect, and every inch of her thigh circumference, the old-fashioned way. She worked for it, all day every day. Runaan does the same thing. He might have half a foot of height on her, but he trains like the world will crush him if he’s not perfect. And that’s very Moonshadow assassin in its own right, because it will, and it tried. Tiadrin knew what she needed. And she knew what Runaan, soft boy that he is, needed. And she made sure she trained it into him, all day every day.

Tiadrin is one of the reasons that Runaan survived the fight in Harrow’s chamber. She made him the fighter he is, the person he is, and that was just enough to pull him through... so he could see his own mentor trapped in a coin. Yay, thanks Viren.

Theory Part II: Runaan’s squad was made up of all the elves Tiadrin has personally trained, or trained by proxy.

If Tiadrin was Runaan’s trainer and mentor, then her honor was his honor. And when she supposedly faltered and fled at the Storm Spire, that suddenly cast him, as an individual assassin and as the current assassin leader, in a terrible light. If his mentor was a coward, what did she teach him? Would he also duck and run when things got hopeless, and abandon his duty?

The doubt that must’ve swirled around him when the village learned the terrible news about Lain and Tiadrin must’ve sliced right through him. Thousand-yard stare, biggest internal Oh No ever. Runaan lives to serve his people, and to have them doubt him, after all he has done to train them and protect them from harm, would be the worst kind of pain. He had to make it right.

But not just him. Assassins seem to take solo missions even for their first kill, if Eljaal’s covered shoulders are any indication. You can Moonshadow your feels if you don’t have to watch your friend kill someone, if you don’t have anyone watching while you stab someone to death. You can pretend it’s all serene and just and smooth and valid and honorable. You can hold to your love of life and dance right past your embrace of death, if no one else sees it. But Runaan’s mission had 6 members. They were definitely going to have to watch each other murder people. Why?

Tiadrin’s honor was their honor. An extended family of brothers, sisters, cousins, fosterlings, anyone who was drawn to Tiadrin, or her to them, bonded together over their family feels and protective instincts. They were family. And then their leader fell, her honor crushed.

They had to make it right.

They all carried Tiadrin’s honor with their own, taught by her personally, regarded as honorable assassins. Until she seemed to have a fatal flaw in her character. Then everyone wondered if that flaw got passed down, too. The assassins had to prove that it hadn’t been, for the sake of their people, and for all of Xadia who trusted them to take out threats in the dark. They had to go set right Tiadrin’s “mistake” and take Harrow for Zym’s death. All of them. Every single one, no exceptions.

No exceptions. That’s why Rayla had to go, too. Tiadrin taught Runaan everything he knew about being an assassin, and when she moved to the Storm Spire, Runaan dutifully passed Rayla’s mother’s teachings to Rayla herself, feeling like part of the family, an essential connection between mother and daughter, between assassin mentor and mentee. He tried to get it just right, just perfect, so Rayla would feel like she’d been trained by her actual mom as much as possible. Not just because Tiadrin was Rayla’s mother, but because Runaan respects Tiadrin’s prowess so much. She was the best, and every bit of Runaan’s efforts to be his best reflects his respect for her.

You don’t get to be the assassin leader unless you’re the best there is. Runaan knows that from both sides. And just like Tiadrin did with him, he does his best to teach Rayla everything she needs to stay safe and alive, so she can do her duty too, and come home safe to her family every day.

And, in the end, part of that duty had to be avenging her mentor’s mentor, her own mother, by accompanying Runaan on his mission. Her lessons were from Tiadrin, one step removed. If there was a flaw in her training, no one would trust her when it was her turn to lead the assassins, and she’s not even done training yet! Rayla understood Moonshadow honor, assassin honor. She was driven to ask Runaan to take her with him, and he could see exactly where she was coming from. Their honor was tangled up with Tiadrin’s. They couldn’t back out. They had to go to Katolis, them and everyone else Tiadrin had trained.

That’s why the binding ribbons came out. They were in a do-or-die situation, in the most literal sense.

They could not go home in failure. If they all failed, it would take out a whole line of assassin training, possibly the same one that had lasted for countless generations (okay maybe we can count them and there are like 30) and crush the Moonshadows’ spirits. And they’d literally rather die than see that happen. They were all ready to give their lives to restore Tiadrin’s honor, and their own, because without her legacy, there would be such a crater in the assassin corps that it might never recover.

Yes, this is basically my angsty “Runaan’s found family went into battle together and most of them died” headcanon again, but this time with a solid theory behind it. I’m not sorry. I love this angsty idea, it’s horrible. Do you see the cycle of trauma? I’ve got one more part to add, which may make it clearer.

Theory Part III: Assassin leaders always go serve at the Storm Spire once they successfully train their own replacement.

In this theory’s version of Why Laindrin Went To The Storm Spire, Tiadrin was always going to end up at the Storm Spire, once she became the assassin leader. That’s where the veteran assassin leader goes, see, to liaison between the dragon throne and the current Moonshadow leader. They know the assassins’ skills far better than any Skywings or dragons do, and they know the leader in charge of them, so they can give guidance or direction as needed, or simply phrase the Dragon King or Queen’s request in such language that the assassin leader knows intuitively what really needs to be done.

Yeah, Tiadrin writing Runaan mission directives. I can see it.

Tiadrin’s mentor would’ve left for the Spire when Tiadrin got promoted to leader. The person she trusted most in the world, who had trained her, left her behind, only to communicate by long distance. Moonshadow deniability, amirite--we’re not stabbing people, we’re sending tactical correspondence, yep that’s it. But Tiadrin was still surrounded by Runaan and the other young assassins, and she bonded with them all, and life was bright.

Then, the shadow came once again. Runaan was an excellent student, and she knew he was ready. Maybe she delayed, and delayed, Moonshadowing her reasons. Maybe she wanted the chance to bring life into the world, to try to balance out some of the death she had dealt. Maybe she wanted a few more years of domestic life in the Silvergrove with all her favorite elves, to bolster her heart for the years to come. Maybe her mentor at the Spire was up to shenaniganry in dragon politics and she wanted to buy them more time to lay those plans in place.

Knowing Tiadrin even the slightest bit, I will assume it was all this and more. But eventually, she couldn’t put things off any longer. She had to go fulfill her duty to the dragon throne and join the Dragonguard as the representative of the Moonshadow assassins who had bound themselves to the protection of Xadia long ago. She had to walk away from her bright life, her family, her friends, her allies, and climb up into that misty stone tower, to spend who knows how long away from everything she knew and loved.

And she did. She chose to walk away, for love of Xadia. She took her beloved husband with her, but she left the Silvergrove, Xadia’s protection, and her own daughter’s upbringing in the hands of the elf she chose to replace her. The soft boy she’d taught to stab, who would teach her baby girl to stab, too.

Because this is The Way.

I know I’ve had an angsty headcanon that assassins don’t retire. But, consider this: maybe one of them can. One of Tiadrin’s many plans could have been counting on Runaan’s extreme prowess and devotion to Rayla. If Tiadrin knew that she could return to the Silvergrove in peace and retire there with Lain once Runaan trained Rayla to take his place as the assassin leader, then she could live in the Silvergrove again for the rest of her life, and also get to see Rayla grown big and strong and become the assassin leader herself, another proud elf in a long line of honor and tradition. She might feel that was a big accomplishment, considering the dangers they all face. And it would be.

Yes, this would hinge on the fact that Runaan would have to leave the Silvergrove to replace Tiadrin at the Storm Spire, to serve as Rayla’s liaison to the dragon throne. Cycles of trauma, remember? Tiadrin can’t have all of her family back in one place, ever again. She has to love and train someone enough to put them through the life that she’s having to live, and she has to be strong enough not to let that break her. And then, she has to choose between them. She chose Runaan first, so that she could hope to choose Rayla later. She trusted him with all the future happiness of her heart. And he did his best with it.

But they didn’t quite make it, in the end, because of Viren.

I know this has been a lot of angst. I know. But there is a moonlit lining to this theory, and I think we all need to consider it. If there is a cycle of taking the assassin leader out of the Silvergrove to serve the dragon throne for ancient promise reasons, then if that ancient promise is ever rescinded or redressed in an effective way, the family won’t need to keep yeeting loved ones out of its orbit. And if assassins cease to be a necessary evil as a result, then no one will have to leave, or stab, again. At least, not for the same angsty reasons. They could stay together and never need to leave again.

It won’t be easy to break such a cycle. It might be impossible. But if anyone can manage it, it’ll be Tiadrin, and her family.

extra headcanon for this theory:

Tiadrin, packing up for the Storm Spire: One last thing, Runaan.

Runaan, stoically attentive because what are feels on the day your mentor leaves you: Yes, Tiadrin?

Tiadrin: Ethari will need to pick an apprentice to replace him, too. He should start looking now.

Runaan: Why? Only the Silvergrove’s Master Craftsman gets to pick an apprentice, and Ethari isn’t--

Tiadrin: *wink” Not yet, he’s not.

Runaan: Tiadrin, please, what have you done?

Tiadrin: I want to come back here someday, Runaan. I want to see your good work with Rayla. And I can’t do that if you flat-out refuse to leave your husband when Avizandum calls for you to replace me. So he needs to be ready to leave, too.

Runaan: I, I, I would nev-- I couldn’t--

Tiadrin: *patting his shoulder briskly as she strides out* Mmhmm, sure thing, kid. The council votes him in next Thursday. Be good while I’m gone! I want to find this place exactly the way I’m leaving it. Lain, honey, get your coat!

Lain, in the next room: Yes, Tiadrin!

Runaan, soft-eyed, to the silence in her wake: Yes, Tiadrin.

[gay-otlc]

To Love Unafraid (With An Ugly, Poisonous Heart)

Summary: Fintan was silent for a long time. Then he nodded and said, "The life of a pyrokinetic is a lonely one. It's hard to get close to people. When you do, it's too easy to hurt them. It's best to just isolate yourself from the good parts of society. If the council doesn't lock you up, you lock yourself up. I'm sorry you had to manifest this curse. I'm sorry you're turning into a monster like me."

(Or, Marella has OCD, and her intrusive thoughts feature hurting Biana.)

Word count: 3374

Content warnings: Wow, this is gonna be a long list. Um. Intrusive thoughts and depictions of OCD is the main one. Severe guilt and self loathing. Cursing. Fire and (imagined) death/murder. Mentions of suicidal thoughts and self harm. Generally disturbing. And yes, I did warn you that this would be fucked up.

Written for Marelliana week. Would probably fit under day two (nightmares) but also a free day. Whatever. It's all Marelliana. @marelliana-week

Read on AO3

Every time Marella looked into Biana's eyes a little too long, she thought she would catch on fire.

It wasn't her fault Biana was so... Biana. Were there really any words for how wonderful ae was? Beautiful, one could say, but that would barely cover it. Yes, Biana was so fucking beautiful, so beautiful it was unfair, with mahogany skin and a wide smile and stiff, dark hair with streaks of lavender. Marella had never been especially poetic, but she wanted to color Biana with adjectives and metaphors until the page reflected even a tenth of aer beauty.

She couldn't write that beautifully, though. She could only watch aer and think that if she could freeze time right then, she would be happy forever.

"You're staring again," Biana said, a hint of a laugh in aer voice.

"Sorry! You're just... you're just really pretty."

Ae looked down, cheeks turning pink. Sheepishly, ae scratched the back of aer neck. "Aww. Thanks. You're the sweetest."

Biana's lips are the sweetest. They'd only kissed a few times, and before then, Marella had thought nothing could taste better challah. She'd been proven wrong. At the thought, she noticed she'd been staring specifically at Biana's pink lips. She blushed harder, looking away. Until warm skin touched her hand, and wrapped fingers around hers. Marella looked back, surprised. Biana chuckled quietly, the prettiest smile on aer face. Marella brushed her thumb over aer knuckles, wondering how the hell she'd gotten so lucky as to date the princaess next to her.

And then the princaess burst into flames. Ae was a girl on fire, stunning. Ae looked like a phoenix, a mythical creature even for the elves. But aer face didn't look triumphant or majestic or beautiful. Just scared. And sad. Aer skin turned charred, angry red burns blistering across aer face. The girl Marella loved crumpled into ashes.

She blinked. Biana was back, alive, not on fire, beautiful as ever. But Marella couldn't appreciate aer beauty nearly as much, because the image of Biana burning was seared into her mind.

Do it. Do it. Burn aer. You know you want to.

Marella ripped her hand out of Biana's.

"Love? You alright?"

Deep breaths forced their way out of Marella's lungs. She clenched her fists so hard her nails painfully dug into her palms. "Yeah," she choked. "Don't feel well."

"Oh." Biana gave her a sympathetic look, and she squeezed her fists tighter. She didn't deserve Biana's sympathy. "Do you want me to get you anything?"

Let aer stay. Talk to aer. Don't push aer away.

"No," she replied forcefully; half a scream, half a sob. Hurt flashed across Biana's face, and Marella somehow felt even guiltier. If she could snap at aer like that, what would stopping her from getting just angry enough to really snap and... well... see the scared, sad, girl on fire once again. She took a deep breath, feeling tears rise to her eyes. She looked away. "No, I think I'm just going to lie down. Thanks, though."

"Okay." Biana still looked worried. If she could have, she would have comforted aer. But she didn't know exactly how to explain I'm not sick, I don't have some life threatening disease, I'm just getting horrible visions of murdering you and I'd prefer not to let those visions become reality, because I couldn't stand to lose you, and I don't think I could be responsible for that without burning away my ugly heart and soul as well.

Once Biana tore aer gaze away from the mess that ae had the misfortune to love, and light leaped away, Marella let herself crumble. She didn't even wait to get up to her room and hide under her blankets. Just let her knees collapse as she sank to the grassy yard in front of her house. Her shoulders shook with sobs. It felt like she would explode with anger and guilt and fear, and if she wasn't careful, the fire that exploded out of her would burn everything else in her life as well. All the things she cared about.

(Biana Vacker.)

She'd had thoughts like this before. Attacking people she was close to. Usually physically, but sometimes verbally. Still, that was all before she manifested. The worst she had ever thought about doing to anyone would have left a few bruises. Not like this.

Not a pile of ashes where a girl used to be.

When she was a kid, she'd been confident that her mother's accident was her fault, that she was the one to push Caprise Redek. She needed constant reassurance that she had been in a completely different room of the house at the time, that she couldn't possibly be responsible. Her dad thought it was a grief response, the guilt, the nightmares with false memories.

It could have been, if it was just a one off. But lately, Marella had begun to think there was some sort of monster living in her brain, whispering these horrible thoughts. Trying to convince her to carry out its wicked instructions. She would beat her head trying to force it out.

That didn't work, of course. And ever since Marella manifested, it felt like the monster was on fire. Bigger. More powerful. The monster was just an entity of flames, wanting to burn anything and everything that had the misfortune to be in Marella's path.

Sometimes Marella thought she was the monster.

And monsters didn't deserve to collapse on the front lawn crying, mourning the girl she used to be, who wasn't a danger to everyone around her. The girl she could have been, if she was just a little less twisted.

Glaring, jaw clenched, she stood up and swiped an arm across her face. She screamed as loudly as she could, trying to force the monster and the fire and all the poison out of her. Then she took a deep breath. She needed to talk to someone about this, because the secret, or the monster, or both, would eat her from the inside if she didn't let some of it out. Obviously, she couldn't tell Biana. Nor her dad- he didn't need to be more worried about her than he already was. Nor any of her friends, they had a hard enough time trusting her already.

Marella needed advice from someone who was just as dark and twisted as she was, so she could escape all the judgement. Someone who knew about monsters. And fire.

She needed advice from Fintan.

Reluctantly, she took out the leaping crystal that directed her to her much-dreaded training sessions with Fintan. Once the world materialized around her, she shivered. I'm never going to get used to the cold here.

Maybe it'll freeze out the monster.

Don't be ridiculous. The monster will never leave. The monster is you. The monster won't die unless you die.

Then maybe it would be best if-

"Marella?" Fintan's raspy voice said, interrupting Marella's spiral of thoughts swirling down the drain, slowly disappearing just like any goodness, or sanity, she had. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" Marella swallowed. "I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"What about your girlfriend's house?" Fintan asked, smirking a little. Marella really hadn't done a very good job of hiding that.

"I can't go to her. I'm too dangerous to be around her. If she's too close to me, she'll get hurt."

"Because you're a pyrokinetic?"

"Because I'm a monster."

"Please. If you were a 'monster', you wouldn't resist every time I suggested you join the Neverseen. You're disgustingly concerned with morals."

The words spilled out before Marella could stop them. "I'm also disgustingly obsessed with burning the love of my life to a pile of ashes!" Fintan stayed silent, and for a heartbeat, Marella thought, This is it. She was such a monster she even horrified Fintan. But her mouth kept talking, and her heart kept bleeding. "There's a monster in my head, that tells me to do really horrible things, like- like kill Biana, set her on fire until she can't survive me, and the more it goes on, the more I realize I'm the monster, it's my own actions. The monster tells me I want to do those things, and why would I think it if I didn't want to carry it out?"

"Do you want to hurt Biana?" Fintan asked, his voice calm and collected as ever. What a dickhead.

"I don't know!" Marella screamed, spinning around to punch the wall. Her knuckles split apart, droplets of blood appearing on them. "Part of me, part of me loves her more than anything else, can't stand to see her in even the least bit of pain. And the other part wants her to burn. And I don't know which part is real, or how to stop the second part. All I know is I can't be around her. I'm too dangerous."

Fintan was silent for a long time. Then he nodded and said, "The life of a pyrokinetic is a lonely one. It's hard to get close to people. When you do, it's too easy to hurt them. It's best to just isolate yourself from the good parts of society. If the council doesn't lock you up, you lock yourself up. I'm sorry you had to manifest this curse. I'm sorry you're turning into a monster like me."

"I'm sorry too," said Marella, not quite knowing what she was apologizing for. And then she ran.

Where was she running to? She didn't know that. Just... away.

When she finally had to take a breath to catch her breath, calves burning and lungs aching, it finally occurred to her. Where the pyrokinetic monsters had to go. The only place in the world that the world could possibly be safe from her. She'd considered the Forbidden Cities, midway through her run, so she wouldn't hurt anyone she knew and cared about... but she could kill humans, and that was still monstrous. Same with any cities for the other intelligent species. If she was around people- any people- they'd be in danger.

Exile. She had to go to Exile. A place meant to keep the rest of the world safe from her.

But how the fuck do I get there?

Marella screamed. No one was allowed to hear her. She screamed, because she was so damn close to keeping everyone she loved safe, and at this last step she couldn't make it. How the fuck did she get to Exile? Did she turn herself in to the Council, have a tribunal? Would they lock her up? They fucking should. The Council had thrown innocent elves into Exile, they wouldn't mind banishing a Pyrokinetic with a fucked up brain.

To Eternalia, she supposed, since she didn't have many other options.

She leaped there, starting heading towards the Councillor's castle, barely able to focus on anything around her other than the screaming in her head and the thunderous beating of her ugly, poisoned heart. Which is how she didn't notice that there was a person right in her path... and how she managed to bump into them.

Aer.

Biana.

"Hey, watch where- Marella? Love? Are you alright?"

Just her luck, the person she needed to stay away from. "What are you doing here?" Marella blurted, before she could really think about it. It sounded harsh, and she saw the hurt flash across Biana's face.

Ae recovered quickly. "I was getting some work done for Team Valiant, since we weren't together; it's too hard to do it around you, your pretty face always distracts me." Under aer breath, ae mumbled something that sounded like Biana, you disastaer queer.

Normally, Marella was happy to laugh about being a disaster queer- a concept she was well acquainted with, but that was drowned out by the fact that Biana was still affectionate with her. Still found her pretty, wanted to date her, just as in love as ae was before. Why wouldn't ae be? Ae didn't know. But ae needed to know- it wasn't fair to keep lying to Biana, manipulate aer into thinking aer girlfriend was a good person.

"We need to break up," said the words spilling out of Marella's mouth. In horror, she watched as Biana's face fell, looking like slow motion. She could see the heartbreak dawn on aer, moment by moment.

Aer brown eyes filling with tears, ae whispered "Marella?"

"I- you can't- we- I need to go to Exile," Marella said. "We can't date if I'm in Exile."

"Why the fuck would you need to go to Exile? The fuck did you do?"

"Nothing yet. I'd like to keep it that way. Which is why I can't see you again."

"You're not making any sense, Marella!" The tears spilled onto aer cheeks, and whatever was left of Marella's ugly heart broke.

She didn't want to tell Biana. She really, really didn't want to look Biana in the eye and explain that she fantasized about killing aer. She would rather be anywhere else- preferably Exile- but Biana had a right to know why Marella was breaking up with aer. So she swallowed. "I... I get these thoughts," she started, not quite knowing how to verbalize this secret she'd kept so close to her forever. "About... hurting people. Hurting you. Earlier today, right before I left, I thought about killing you. Burning you. It was really vivid... I could see you on fire, looking so scared of me, before you turned to ashes and smoke. And then my brain whispered..."

Marella broke off into a sob, not daring to look at Biana's face. Ae probably hated her now. Ae hated herself too.

"It whispered, 'Do it. Burn aer. I know you want to.' I'm so fucked up, Biana, I'm too dangerous to be around you. Please just leave before you get hurt. I don't want to hurt you, but this monster that lives in my head wants me to. Or maybe the monster is me, it's all so fucked up, but I don't want to let the monster win, whatever it is. Protect yourself. Don't let it win."

"Marella..."

"Biana, please don't let it win! It would kill me to see you die, know it was all my fault... my heart's full of poison and seeing you die would still break it. I love you, I love you more than anything, which is why I have to keep you safe. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She turned away, almost crying too hard to speak. "I'm sorry. I'll just... I'll go."

Cold fingers wrapped around her wrist. "Not a chance in hell," snapped Biana, whirling Marella back around. "Don't you dare push me away. I am your girlfriend, and I call the shots on whether or not you're too dangerous to be around me. And the only danger you pose is trying to make my head explode from gay panic."

"Hello!? And also burning you!" Why the fuck couldn't ae understand? Ae needed to get away.

"I'll carry around a damn fire extinguisher, I don't care. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself in life or death situations. I've survived the Neverseen a million times over, I can survive the off chance that you lose control and set me on fire. I'll take precautions and I'll be ready to defend myself if I need to, but I don't think I'm going to need to."

"You don't know that! You don't know how horrible I am!" Marella couldn't stop screaming. She wasn't angry at Biana. Just angry at herself. Angry at the monster. Just... angry. She needed to stop before she set anything on fire. Monster.

"No, I don't know for sure that you'll never hurt me. But I know that I love you. I'm not going to stop loving you just because you're a flawed package. It's not like I'm little miss perfect or anything. We can be fucked up together."

"You're not perfect, but you're damn well closer than I am! Even Fintan thought I was fucked up. Fintan. I love you, Biana, I do, but my heart's too ugly and poisonous to be in love like we are. I just need to cut our ties and hope the pain from missing you goes away eventually."

"I love you, you fucking idiot!" Biana shouted. "I love you, because you're Marella fucking Redek, and you make me want to freeze time and be happy with you forever. I love you so much that it feels like burning any time I think of life without you in it. I love you so much that it feels like my world is a little bit off-kilter and then I kiss you and that's the only time everything feels right. I love you because you've been with me through all the shit in my life and made me smile through it all, so now it's my turn to help you with your shit. I love you so, so much, and I love everything about you. Even the flaws. Even the monster. I wish I could tell the monster to stay away from my Marella, but I can't, so I'm going to tell Marella to stop being so hard on my Marella. I love her, and she's not as bad as she thinks she is. She's not bad at all. I love everything about you, Marella, but I can't love you the way I want to if you keep pushing me away. So we'll be in love, and then we'll also have my scars and your monster and all our history with the Neverseen, but we'll love each other through it all. I need you to understand that I love you, you fucking idiot." Biana's eyes were wild with desperation. Ae exhaled heavily, giving Marella a pleading look.

"I love you," whispered Marella. It was all she could say before collapsing into a hug, crying. "I love you. I'm so sorry I tried to leave. You're the best. I love you."

"I want you to love yourself almost as much as I love you. You deserve it."

Maybe Marella would believe that, eventually. Maybe she'd get there.

She was still broken; how could she not be, with a monster living in her head? A little bit burnt, a little damaged, a little horrible. But she kept living. (Biana stayed alive and un-burnt too, to Marella's delighted surprise.) Her ugly, poisonous heart kept beating.

Elwin gave her a little pill to help keep the monster quiet, help keep her from freaking out so much every time the monster reared its fiery head. She eventually got to a point where she could make little fires with her hand and not spiral into a panic. Biana held her other hand as Marella lit the Hanukkah candles herself, and she was a bit scared, but it melted away with the laughter and latkes and warm lighting. It was hard not to push aer away; hard to keep herself from running away.

But Marella did it, because she loved Biana. And she loved herself, just a little bit. And she tolerated the monster. So she kept going, and she allowed herself to love Biana. To love unafraid, with an ugly, poisonous heart.

[thelastspeecher]

D&D AU - Elf Kid Adventures, Pt. 2

Electric Boogaloo

I actually have two more scenes planned to tie up this little story arc in my D&D AU where Stan is half-orc and half-elf.  I originally was going to include those scenes in this post, but then these two scenes on their own were much longer than I expected.  So, uh, here’s some awkward stuff, some angst, some “aww” moments, and most importantly, a whole mess of Stan being head over heels for Angie.

Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

              Stan couldn’t decide whether the expectation he did chores was the worst part or the best part of staying at the McGucket farmstead. On the one hand, he had to get up when Ole Tinbeak – the earliest rising rooster – crowed.  On the other hand, the praise from Mr. McGucket never seemed to end.

              “Excellent!” Mr. McGucket said cheerfully, watching Stan lug a bale of hay twice his size.  “I must say, Stanaximus, yer the strongest elf I’ve ever seen, and yer only a child right now!”  Stan grinned despite the straws of hay poking his face.  “Would ya consider employment as a farmhand?”

              “Thanks,” Stan said, slipping into the manners that Mrs. McGucket had insisted on drilling into him.  “But I like being a ranger with Angie and Lute.”

              “Fair enough,” Mr. McGucket said.  Stan set down the bale of hay.  His vision now unobscured, he spotted Lute standing a few feet away.  Lute had never seemed that intimidating to Stan before, and his new age (and matching immature wardrobe with many pairs of shorts) only served to hinder his continued attempts.  He was in his thirties, according to Mrs. McGucket, which made him like a human five-year-old.

              “He’s only bein’ nice to you ‘cause yer a guest,” Lute hissed.  Stan snorted.

              “If you could see through all that hair, you’d know that’s not true,” he replied.  Lute lifted the dark bangs that covered his eyes to glare at Stan.

              “I can see just fine,” Lute snapped.  Stan grinned.

              “Aw, is someone grumpy ‘cause he’s overdue for a nap?” Stan teased.  Lute blushed fiercely.  The McGucket parents had insisted Lute have at least one nap a day at this age.  Something about the extra rest being particularly important for growing elves.  “Maybe you should go sleep.”

              “You-” Lute started.  Mr. McGucket came over.  He took his youngest son’s hand.

              “He’s right, Lute.  Stan, think ya can finish the chores if Angie helps?”

              “Uh, sure.  But I don’t know where she is,” Stan said slowly.  Someone jumped down from the barn’s loft, landing lightly in front of Stan.  Angie beamed at him.  “…How long were you up there?”  Angie shrugged.

              “It’s startin’ to get a bit dark, so ya best check the fence fer breaks first, ‘fore night falls,” Mr. McGucket said, leading Lute out of the barn.  Stan and Angie nodded.  Once Mr. McGucket was gone, Stan turned to Angie.

              “We’re supposed to check the fence?” he asked.

              “Yep!  Follow me.” Angie walked out of the barn. Stan followed.  They went to the enclosed cattle pasture and began to follow the fencing.  “Luckily, breaks ‘re pretty easy to spot,” Angie said cheerfully.  “And easy to fix, too.  Just a quick Mending.”  Stan nodded silently, trying to ignore how the setting sun made her golden hair turn a fiery orange.  They continued to walk in silence for a few moments.  “Don’t let Lute get ya down,” Angie said in a low tone.

              “Huh?  Oh, I’m not.” Stan shrugged.  “I actually kinda like being a kid again.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah.  I’m-” Stan rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly.  “I’m not in that big of a rush to get this curse removed, to be honest.”  Angie came to a stop, leaning against the fencing. Stan did the same.  His hands gripped the wooden slats.  Angie turned her head to face him.  A few long golden strands of hair loose from her braid bounced with the movement.  The sun cast her form in a brilliant halo.

              “Why’s that?” she asked.  Distracted by how she looked in the fading light, Stan didn’t hear her question.

              “Huh?” he mumbled.  Angie rolled her silver eyes.  As dusk encroached, they began to glow with a faint foxfire.

              “Why are ya not in a hurry to be back to normal?” she asked.  “I thought ya missed yer tusks.”  Stan sighed.

              “I mean, I do.”

              “Then what’s goin’ on?”

              “I…”  Stan trailed off.  Angie scooted closer to him.  Her hand rested next to his, their skin touching.  Stan’s heartrate picked up.  Unable to stop himself, he blurted out the truth.  “I forgot how much better people used to treat me.”  Angie’s eyes widened.

              “…Pardon?” she asked.

              Shit.  Way to go, Stan.  This is what you get for being so easily distracted by pretty girls.

              “I grew up in a mostly human settlement,” Stan said quietly.  “The only elf who lived in town was my mom.  Looking like her, I got attention.  But it was good attention, ‘cause a lotta humans are obsessed with elves. Even travelers passing through would sometimes stop and talk to me and my twin brother.  I think…”  Stan furrowed his brow.  “I think my mom said that, if we had grown up in a proper elf environment, we wouldn’t be allowed to interact with visitors.  I guess elf kids are considered really important, so they get kept away from outsiders.  At least, that’s how it was where my mom grew up.”

              “Ma says things were the same way where she came from,” Angie said.  “She ‘n Pa had some disagreements ‘bout it when we were little.  So it’s probably a high elf thing, not a specific place thing.”

              “Yeah.”  Stan took a breath.  “I liked getting all that positive attention.  But then my tusks started growing in, and my hair got darker, and I got bigger in a way that elves just aren’t.”  Stan looked down at the dirt.  He nudged a clump with the toe of his borrowed boot.  “I stopped looking like my mom and started looking like my pops. And I don’t have a lick of human in me, so I don’t look like a proper half-orc.  By the time I was sixteen, I looked full orc.”  Angie made a strangled sound.  Stan looked at her.

              “Sixteen?” she choked out, shocked.

              “Orcs don’t live that long.  Until I became an adult, I aged close to the same rate humans do. I think I was about twenty when my elf side kicked in to slow it down.”

              “Oh.  Right.” Angie nodded.  “You told me ‘fore that you were in yer sixties.”

              “Yep.  Haven’t aged a day in the last forty years, thanks to Mom.”

              “Yes.  Okay, continue yer story.”

              “Well, I dunno how much there is left to tell. I looked like an orc, and you know how people treat orcs.  Visitors stopped giving me treats and started putting their hands on their weapons when they saw me.  Since that’s how it’s been for the last few decades, I forgot that people didn’t always look at me like I was about to kill them.”

              “Even if you don’t get the curse reversed, you’ll start agin’ on yer own,” Angie pointed out.  Stan’s stomach twisted into a knot.  “Sooner rather than later, you’ll look like yer father again.”

              “Yeah.  I know.” Stan’s head drooped.  “It’s just-”

              “No need to explain.  I understand,” Angie said firmly.  She placed her hand over Stan’s.  Stan’s heart skipped a beat.  “It’s easier to be an elf than an orc.”  She quirked a half-grin.  “Though, just so’s ya know, I prefer yer orcish self to yer elvish self.”

              “R-really?” Stan stammered.  Angie nodded.

              “Tusks ‘n all.”

----- 

              Stan had just finished his breakfast when Mr. McGucket entered the kitchen.

              “Stanaximus?” he said.  Stan looked over.

              “Yeah?”              

              “Walk with me, son.”

              “Um.  Okay.” Stan deposited his plate in the sink and followed Mr. McGucket outside.  “Did you need me for something?”

              “I just need to have a lil chat with ya,” Mr. McGucket said airily.  “But I think you’d prefer the chat happen where there aren’t ears to listen.” Dread began to build in Stan’s gut. The two walked off the main, cleared area that constituted the farmstead, and into the surrounding woods.  Mr. McGucket moved through the trees like he was one with his surroundings, effortlessly silent and graceful.  It was actually almost difficult for Stan to keep track of the man, as he blended in so well.

              I mean, he is a wood elf.  Makes sense.

              “What did you wanna talk about?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket smiled.

              “You courtin’ my youngest child,” he said simply. Stan stumbled over a root.  Mr. McGucket caught him.  “You all right?”

              “Yeah, I’m- I’m-”  Stan swallowed.  “What makes you think I wanna court Angie?”

              “I see the way ya look at her.  Like she’s the sun, moon, ‘n stars.  There’s no mistakin’ what that means.”  Mr. McGucket looked at Stan.  “You can deny all ya want after this conversation, but I want ya to be truthful durin’ it, okay?”

              “…Fine,” Stan mumbled.  He clenched his hands into fists and ground them into his eyes.  “I…I really like Angie, and being a kid again has made it a lot worse.”

              “Makes sense.  Children have lesser control over their emotions, after all.  Thank you fer bein’ willin’ to talk blunt with me.”

              “Yeah, whatever.”

              “Now, I encourage ya to court Angie, once you’ve all been returned to yer proper ages.  But I needed to warn ya that a courtship with her won’t go without difficulties.”

              “What- what do you mean?” Stan asked.  Mr. McGucket sighed.

              “Politics.  Yer a noble, and my wife, she…she was somethin’ sim’lar ‘fore she left her home to be with me.  I don’t know whether she still has her title or not, and our children certainly don’t have any titles, but they do technically belong to a very powerful sun elf house.  If you were a wood elf, or even just a reg’lar sun elf, I doubt it would be a problem. As it is, it might not be.  But it could be.  So I figured I’d warn ya.”

              “But I’m not noble,” Stan said.  Mr. McGucket frowned at him.  “You guys keep insisting I am, but I’m not!  Maybe my mom is, or was, but my pops, he was about as far from noble as you can get.”

              “Was?”

              “…Pops passed away a few decades ago,” Stan said quietly.

              “My condolences.”

              “I don’t need ‘em.  He was a kinda shit father.”

              “Hmm.”  At Mr. McGucket’s thoughtful, though noncommittal, sound, Stan looked up.  There was a troubled look on the man’s face.  “Would that be related to the scars on yer back and arms?”

              “How- how do you-”

              “Harper saw when he took ya to the lake to swim last week,” Mr. McGucket explained.  Stan stifled a curse.  The oldest McGucket son, Harper, had showed up unexpectedly with his adopted children, then insisted on them all doing activities during his visit.  Harper was an incredibly odd person, but Stan thought he was at least tolerable.

              At least, I used to think that.  Now that I know he’s a snitch?  Nah.

              “I want to revisit this at a later time,” Mr. McGucket said after a moment. “Right now, we need to talk about you courtin’ my daughter.”

              Do we?

              “There’s no doubt you have noble blood, Stan.  Just yer full name is one that’s indicative of high status.  Even if ya don’t have a noble title or upbringing, ya have it in yer heritage.”  Mr. McGucket cocked his head thoughtfully.  “Though not havin’ a title will prob’ly make it so Angie’s own royal blood ain’t a factor.”

              “Did you say ‘royal’?” Stan croaked.  A twinkle entered Mr. McGucket’s eye.

              “Yes.”  Stan’s jaw dropped.  “Now, I will say- wait.”

              “What?” Stan asked.  Mr. McGucket now looked at him with visible concern.

              “Open yer mouth, son.”  Before Stan could comply or refuse, Mr. McGucket carefully pried his jaws open, looking at his teeth like he was determining a horse’s age.  “Oh, no.  Are these…fangs?”  Instantly, Stan broke into a cold sweat.

              Fuck!  My tusks! They started coming in!  Mr. McGucket released his hold and took a step back, worry etched on his face.  Stan closed his mouth.

              “It’s okay,” Stan said quickly.

              “Son, you have two teeth what shouldn’t be there, and what look awful dif’rent from yer other teeth.”

              “It’s, um…”  Stan’s mind raced.  “My pops, he got cursed when he was younger, and it got passed down to me somehow.”

              “Really.”

              “Yeah.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  “It’s not a problem.”

              “Maybe.  But when we get this main curse off ya, we’ll take a look at this one that made ya grow fangs.”

              “Maybe…”

              Gods, no, there’s no way in any of the planes that I’d let some elf take my tusks away.  Stan and Mr. McGucket entered a large clearing.  Stan blinked at the farmhouse before them.  Without him realizing, they’d walked back to the McGucket farmstead. Mr. McGucket put a hand on his shoulder.

              “Yer a very interestin’ young man,” he said.

              Damn, and he doesn’t even know I’m half-orc.

              “I’d like to have many more conversations with ya.  But since yer likely to woo my daughter, I have no doubt I’ll have plenty of opportunities to chat.”

              “I might not court her,” Stan said quietly.  The second he spoke, he knew it was a lie.  There was no chance he wouldn’t shoot his shot.

              “It’d be a shame if ya didn’t, since ya have not just my blessin’, but that of my wife, too.”  Mr. McGucket squeezed Stan’s shoulder.  “And not to mention, we wouldn’t push ya to court if we didn’t think it would go well.” Stan swallowed.  “All right, ya can go back to denyin’ now.  I have to go run a few errands, and you have some chores.”

              Recognizing the dismissal for what it was, Stan headed for the barn. As he approached, Angie emerged from it. She caught sight of him and waved. Stan’s heart did yet another backflip upon seeing her.  She came over to him.

              “Were ya in the woods with my pa?” she asked.

              “Yeah.  Don’t worry, he didn’t try to hunt me or anything.  He just wanted to talk.”

              “What were you talkin’ ‘bout?”

              “How you’re actually a long-lost elven princess,” Stan said casually. Angie gasped and punched his shoulder. “Nah, it was just weird stuff where he called me ‘son’ a lot and wanted to know about my family.”

              “He called ya ‘son’, huh?”

              “Yeah.”

              “Sounds to me like he was askin’ ‘bout yer fam’ly ‘cause he considers ya part of ours.”  Angie winked. “Good luck with that.”  Stan grinned confidently.

              “I think I can handle your family.  I mean, I handle you all right,” he said.  Angie threw her head back and laughed.

              “I’ll let ya continue to think that.”

[pikapeppa]

Felassan/f!Lavellan: Ancient History, Part II

Chapter 25 of The Love That Grows From Violence (post-Trespasser Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan) is up! 

In which there is more lore dumping and hopefully no huge glaring holes, kjghkg. Part I of the lore dump is here. 

It’s a long one (>9300 words), so only the first little bit will be here. Formatting on Tumblr just takes soOoOoO long you guys. Read the whole thing on AO3.

***************

There was a brief stunned silence, which Tamaris eventually broke. “It didn’t work, though,” she said. “Putting their dragons in the deep roads to keep the Blight in was pointless. If Ghilan’nain already had a piece of red lyrium from fucking Andruil—”

Felassan cut in. “The Evanuris didn’t know it was futile. They didn’t understand the nature of the corruption that red lyrium would bring.”

“But we know that now,” she argued. “We know now how red lyrium spreads. And by ‘we’, I mean the whole Inquisition, including Solas. We know red lyrium can be grown like fucking plants in a garden, so why the fuck was he so mad about the Wardens wanting to kill the archdemons if all the archdemons do is lead the Blights?”

No one replied for a moment, and Tamaris realized with a jolt that she’d been yelling. 

Then Felassan laughed. 

Tamaris’s belly twisted with guilt. His laughter sounded so weary. Here he was, trying to lay out thousands of years of ancient history for them, and how did she repay him? By yelling at him.

He rubbed his face tiredly, and Tamaris sighed and leaned into his side. “I’m sorry, Felassan,” she said quietly. “I’m not mad at you, I’m just…” She waved impatiently at herself. “I’m being a bitch. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not being a bitch,” he said. “You’re frustrated. There is a difference.”

“Yeah, there is, and I’m definitely being a bitch,” she retorted. 

He lifted his head from his hand and smiled at her. “You are a master of charmingly crass apologies.”

She smiled faintly in return and laced her fingers with his. “Fuck off.”

He laughed again, and it sounded more genuine this time. “All right. Maybe Varric can summarize what I’ve shared so far.”

Varric nodded. “Ghilan’nain’s crazy gets rewarded by making her an Elvhen god. Meanwhile, Andruil found some red lyrium, probably from the Titan’s heart, and brought it to Ghilan’nain as a present. Chuckles finds out too late about the red lyrium and warns Mythal, who goes looking for proof and comes back with some well-warranted worries, and she gets all her god buddies to donate their dragons to guarding the Titan’s heart, since that’s where the Blight comes from.” He lifted an eyebrow at Felassan. “Or so you think.”

“A fine summary,” Felassan said. “You have my thanks.”

Varric scoffed at his faux formality, and Dorian sighed. “Well, if you think the Blight came from a Titan’s heart, I suppose it’s a good thing that the Titan we saw with Valta has mysteriously sealed itself off since our visit, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Tamaris said grimly.

Varric scratched his chin. “But I don’t get it. How can the Titan heart be the source of the Blight? It didn’t have the Blight when the elves first found it, did it?”

“Not to my understanding, no,” Felassan said.

“Then how could it be the source of the Blight?”

Felassan rubbed his mouth before replying. “I’m honestly not sure. But I do have a theory, if you’d like to hear it.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Varric said wryly.

Felassan gave him a faint smile. “The theory concerns the nature of magic. Or I should say magics, plural.” He looked at Tamaris. “Tamaris, Dorian: you both know the feeling of magic – the hum of power that you can feel in your body and your blood when you draw from the Fade.”

“Yes, of course,” Dorian said.

Felassan nodded. “Magic drawn from the Fade has a certain… a certain vibration, for lack of a better word. Or a pattern of vibration that is unique to the Fade.” To Varric he said, “You could even call it a song, if you were being fanciful. Magic of a dwarven nature — that is, that’s tied to lyrium — vibrates, or sings, in a different manner that is difficult for non-dwarves to control. I’ve spoken of this to Tamaris already, but when Templars ingest lyrium, they are forcing themselves to perceive this song that was never meant for them. It gives them powers, but it changes the way their minds and bodies work.”

Varric’s eyes widened. “That’s what makes them addicts.”

“Yes,” Felassan said. 

“But if that’s the case,” Dorian asked, “why are mages able to use lyrium? How does lyrium enhance our abilities without making us ill if it sings in a different frequency than our magic?”

Felassan pulled a little face. “I’m not entirely sure. But I think it’s possible that lyrium-based magic and Fade magic can, um… damned common tongue.” He muttered to himself in Elvhen for a moment. “They might… resonate?” he said. Then he frowned. “Is that the word I’m looking for? Ah, I’ll have to use it for lack of anything better. I think these forms of magic are able to resonate if the lyrium is tamped down by being in a diluted form. If it’s diluted, the two forms of magic can sing in harmony to make an even stronger song.”

“Hm,” Dorian said thoughtfully. “A plausible theory. I’ll have to think on it, but I like it at first glance.”

“I’m thrilled to please you,” Felassan said with a smirk. He released Tamaris’s hand and leaned back casually on the couch. “Now, we know that lyrium is actually the blood of Titans, and that Titan hearts are a source of enormous power. Tell me something, all of you: did you hear a pulse from the Titan’s heart? Was there an actual heartbeat?”

“Absolutely,” Dorian said.

“Yeah,” Varric agreed. “It was slow, but really obvious.”

Felassan nodded in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought. I’ve never seen a Titan’s heart, you see. But I’m fairly certain that the song of lyrium is generated by the Titan’s heart. And…” He chuckled and rubbed his chin. “May the Dread Wolf never catch my scent. He’d surely gut me for telling you this. Especially since it’s just my suspicion and I could be wrong.” He smiled at them again, but his smile held a hint of a grimace. “Let’s be sure to keep this among the four of us, shall we?”

“Certainly,” Dorian said.

“No problem, Jester,” Varric said, and Tamaris nodded her agreement.

Felassan exhaled slowly and rubbed his mouth. “I would hypothesize that what you call the Blight is actually a corrupted vibration pattern or ‘song’ caused by a damaged Titan heart.” He looked at Varric. “That’s why I thought it interesting that Valta called herself ‘pure’ once she connected with the Titan — an undamaged Titan, I should say. The lyrium from the damaged Titan became impure and corrupted.”

Varric frowned. “But why would a damaged heart mean that the song makes people turn into crazy fanatics? Why does it make them so much sicker than regular lyrium ever could?”

“Now, this might sound like even more of a stretch,” Felassan said, “but I wonder if it might have something to do with the Titans having feelings. You know, seeing as they’re alive.”

Tamaris’s gut jolted. How had she not thought of that? “Oh. Fuck,” she said blankly. “Yeah, I suppose if a parade of strangers came out of nowhere and experimented on your people and started tearing out pieces of your heart, you’d be pretty pissed.”

“Stands to reason, doesn’t it?” Felassan said drolly. “And as we all know, rage can be a corrosive, noxious thing. The Titans feel rage, their rage changes the song, the song makes people into the worst versions of themselves...” He shrugged. “But that’s all conjecture.”

“It’s extremely well-considered conjecture,” Dorian said.

“Thank you,” Felassan said brightly. “I have had a little bit of time to think about it. Just a couple thousand years, you know.”

Tamaris sighed. “Fuck. All right. Well… well, all right. This tells us what the Blight is, then.”

“What the Blight possibly is,” Felassan corrected. “It’s all just hypothesizing.”

She nodded, then shot him a little frown. “Why did you say Solas would gut you for telling us this?”

“I suspect he wanted to keep the so-called ‘root of all evil’ away from you,” Felassan replied. “And I meant you specifically, avise.”

She blinked. “What? Why me?”

“Because he loved you,” Felassan said. 

She frowned. “So?” 

He gave her a chiding look. “He watched red lyrium corrupt Ghilan’nain, who was once one of his dearest friends. He watched it ruin our entire empire. Can you really not see why he would want to hide the knowledge of its source from the woman he loved?”

“That’s a paltry excuse,” Tamaris retorted. “All that tells me is that he didn’t trust me not to misuse the information.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “How are you defending him about this? You’re the one sitting here telling me all of this information!”

“I am, yes,” Felassan said. “But remember, avise: I am explaining him, not defending him. As for why I am telling you, the reason is simple.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “I am not Solas.” 

Her heart squeezed at the seriousness of his expression. She understood what Felassan meant in the context of this conversation: that unlike Solas, he trusted her with this information. But this was not the only way that he and Solas were different.

Where Solas had been a fluctuant wave of hot and cold, Felassan was a constant wash of warmth. Felassan was certainty and humour and openness, and Tamaris did not need the reminder of how different he was from the Solas she had once thought she loved. 

“I know you’re not Solas,” she said quietly. She squeezed his knee. “I know, Felassan.”

His expression softened. Then Varric cleared his throat. “So, uh… so we think we know what the Blight is, and the dragons were probably there to keep it in check. What happened next?”

Felassan looked away from Tamaris and smiled at Varric. “Unfortunately, this is when things started to go downhill for our poor Rebel Wolf. For indeed, this is about the time when he started being called by that infamous moniker.”

CLIFFHANGER, SORRY. Read the rest on AO3!

[tempesrature]

The Case of the Murdered Witch Doctors | Chapter 5

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 The Charm of Lost Things (Oneshot Follow-up) Creative Process Note Commissioned Art Piece

Pairing: Ride or Die | Ellie x Colt Summary:  “It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside.” - Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories, Volume I  Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: PG-16 @rodappreciationweek @lovehugsandcandy

~*~

Colt sighs and runs his hand through his hair as he tries to calm the stormy gold fliting across his eyes.

Ellie looks up from her projected notes and her gaze lands on Colt sitting next to her in the dim meeting room, the curtains drawn and covering the expansive windows from the strong sunlight. Somehow, she’s gotten better at reading his cues. Not that she was ever bad at reading cues, she learned from her father after all, but she seems to be especially attuned to Colt’s cues and body language more than ever. Despite his rather gruff and abrasive attitude, his eyes gives away most of his emotions.

“I can tell that you’re pissed you know,” Ellie teases as she bumps her knee against his.

Colt scoffs and turns to her with a frown. “Yeah? What gave it away? Is it the fact that I’m meeting with the person who murdered my pop or is it something else I didn’t catch?”

Ellie falters a little as she frowns and lays a gentle hand on his thigh. “You can leave if you want. I won’t force you to stay here if it’s too difficult for you.”

Colt scoffs at the idea as he takes her hand on his lap, squeezing it briefly, before he moves it away. “And leave you alone in a room with a murderer? Like hell I will.”

Ellie grins at him, seeing the soft flit of gold in his eyes, and she opens her mouth to tease him when the double doors open and Jason Shaw enters the room. A tall imposing man wearing a brown leather jacket and black jeans with brown hair and snake-like blue eyes.

Her body goes into high alert, her back straightening, as she stands up to greet him while Colt remains stubbornly seated.

“Oh I see,” Jason grins as he bares his fangs and makes his way to the chair across them. “Now I know why the new Kaneko wanted to have a meeting with me.”

Colt growls, his eyes narrowed and fangs bared at Jason.

“I’m Detective Ellie Wheeler,” Ellie interjects hurriedly, not wanting to cause a fight between them in the middle of the afternoon, as she reaches out to shake Jason’s hand. “I’m the lead investigator of the death of Ernesto and Malina Kilat who were murdered a month ago in their home.”

“Wheeler?” Jason raises an eyebrow as he takes Ellie’s hand and, instead of shaking it, brings it up his nose to sniff it. Ellie quickly pulls her hand away from his grasp. “I see. You’ve bought such an interesting pet to me Kaneko.”

“Just answer the damn questions Shaw so we can get out of here,” Colt practically spits out the words, his golden eyes darkening in a menace as Jason takes his seat in front of them.

Ellie wastes no time with her questions.

“First, I’d like to know how you were acquainted with the Kilats and what you regularly purchased from them.”

Jason tilts his head to the side, his face blank. “Who are the Kilats?”

Ellie scrunches her nose, trying to see if he’s playing dumb on purpose, but she answers him nonetheless. “An albularyo family, witch doctors from the Philippines.”

“Ah, I remember now,” Jason chuckles as he leans back on his chair, his eyes glinting with green. “Lovely family. You say they were murdered? How tragic.”

Colt reacts at the callousness of his tone but Ellie stops him by placing a hand on his thigh and squeezing tight.

“They were and with how the murder was conducted, our prime suspect happens to be a vampire. You were recorded as one of their frequent customers.”

“Hmm…oh yes,” Jason replies, almost bored at the hidden accusation in Ellie’s words. “Let’s see…I do remember purchasing some potions but I don’t really remember the name or purpose of them.”

Jason smiles pleasantly at Ellie and she looks back at him with a stony expression.

“Try your best to remember the name and purpose of the potions Mr. Shaw.”

Jason smiles amusingly. “Ahh…could it be perhaps the Fern Libation? Although I can’t be too sure since all I remember is the purple bottle.”

Ellie’s eyes widen for a moment as she feels Colt bump her knee from underneath the table. She immediately understands what he’s trying to tell her: Do not ask further questions about it.

Although the Fern Flower can be used without disastrous side-effects in small amounts (like the Fern Flower blunt), it can be dangerous and highly addictive in larger amounts. Fern Libation is the worse of them all since it uses a highly concentrated amount that can be deadly not only to magical creatures but mortals too. The Agency, specifically the Elves division, has been trying their best to crack down on it before it fully catches the attention of the mortal world.

It’s a dangerous territory to tread and Colt’s right, she shouldn’t ask questions about it. Especially when there have been quiet but insistent rumors that one of the biggest suppliers of Fern Libation happens to be the man currently sitting across from her.

But she’s stubborn, reckless and she wants the truth.

“Are you implying that the Kilats were producing Fern Libation?” She asks as she hears the deep sigh coming from Colt.

Jason grins as the edges of his eyes crinkle in amusement. “I’m not implying anything Detective. As I’ve said, I don’t remember much. Old age really does mess with your memory,” He lets out a brief laugh before his lips twitch into a smile. “But maybe you’ll like this answer more: I used to regularly feed on the wife.”

Ellie’s eyes widen as she glances to Colt who looks back at her with the same expression.

“…So you were having an affair with Mrs. Malina?” Ellie asks, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Affair?” Jason confirms, his eyes blinking at the word before realization dawns on his face. “Oh I suppose that is a good word to use for it but she was just someone I used for feeding.”

“Shaw, she was a magical creature. How can you even stomach the blood?” Colt says, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the memory of the taste. “Not to mention she’s what? Close to two hundred years old?”

Jason lets out a hearty laugh as his eyes dance in a bright green. “That’s the thing with younger vampires, so picky with the age and taste. After you live a few centuries, things like those don’t really matter anymore.”

Jason smirks as he leans forward. His eyes glinting in a green that seems animalistic, predatory, in the dim light of the room. The look he gives them almost traps them both on their seat and Colt sits straighter, his own eyes narrowing in a gold hue that edges on red, as Ellie moves one hand under the table to gather up a little of her magic in case a fight breaks out.

“Do you want to know why she was one of my favorites?” Jason asks, his voice cold and affectionate, as he continues. “When I feed on creatures, I get to live through the deepest and darkest parts of their memories. The ones they’ve tucked into the little corners of their mind. The Kilat wife saw the Spanish invasion of her country and witnessed the end of her lineage as the last witch doctor of her village. Every last one, killed and slaughtered right in front of her,” Jason licks his lips as his green eyes flick to Colt, his voice heavy and feral. “And what’s more delicious than the memory of seeing the end of your bloodline?”

Colt’s eyes widen before they narrow, anger boiling deep inside him that it heats up his skin. He opens his mouth, ready to throw out the very worst of his thoughts towards the man that murdered his father, when Ellie stands up and slams her hand on the table with a loud bang. The force of it sending crackles of blue sparks that reach the edges of the table and leave burn marks across the wooden surface.

“We’re done here,” Ellie speaks, her voice eerily calm in comparison to the deep and dark blues of her eyes. 

She pushes herself away from the table and Colt stands from his own seat, sending one last glare to the smiling Jason on the table.

“Oh by the way Detective,” Jason calls out as he leans back and balances his chair on two legs just as Ellie’s about to walk out of the door. “If you crosscheck the time of the murder to my whereabouts, you’ll see that I was in Europe for the entire month. You can pick up my travel itinerary from my assistant on your way out,” Jason sighs as his lips pull into a sad frown. “Also, I can’t see the memory if I don’t directly feed from the creature. It might not mean much but I truly do grieve for the lost of one of my favorite memories.”

“You’re right,” Ellie confirms as she looks at Jason with a hard glare. “It doesn’t mean much at all.”

She turns and exits the meeting room as Colt slams the door behind them with a loud bang.

~*~

“He’s not our murderer,” Colt concludes as they step out into the sun and out of the building.

“No,” Ellie sighs as she looks at the piece of paper in her hand that clearly places him in Paris during the time of the murder. She massages her forehead to push back the headache as she subtly uses magic to send the paper back to her office table. “He’s an absolute psychopath though.” 

Colt smirks as he bumps his shoulder against hers lightly. “Live long enough and they all turn out like that.”

Ellie chuckles wearily as she glances at him with a grateful smile. Colt returns her smile with his own before he looks up at the sky and squints a little at the sunlight blinding his eyes. He looks down at his wristwatch, notes the time left, and nods before he turns to Ellie.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Ellie furrows her eyebrows. “Where would we go?”

Colt smirks. “It’s a surprise, come on.”

Colt leads them to the Cavalieri and swings his leg on the bike. Ellie follows after him, reaching out to take the bike helmet he offers her, before she takes her place behind him. She hesitates only for a moment but she eventually wraps her arms around his waist before the bike takes off and weaves through LA traffic.

~*~

“Wow,” Ellie breathes out as she takes off her helmet and hops off of the bike, her eyes taking in the vast expanse of the blue sea over the cliff. “How did you find this place?”

Colt shrugs as he stands next to her, his hands deep in his pants. “My pop took me here when I was younger. He said that this is where you can catch the sun where it’s brightest, where it’s strongest.”

Colt closes his eyes as he soaks in the strong rays of the sun, almost as if he’s drawing strength from it. Ellie observes him quietly and seeing the way his face relax and the way his body loosens up helps to ease the scramble of thoughts in her own brain.

Ellie steps forward and leans over the edge, her eyes going wide at the height. “Ever jumped down there?”

Colt scoffs as he stands next to her and peers down the edge too. “Not if you want to be the next case file in the Agency. Do you see how big those rocks are?”

Ellie leans back to look at him. “That’s easy. A little levitation spell before the jump and a water spell to cushion your fall and you’ll be fine.”

Colt looks at her incredulously, a smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah because everyone is a genius witch like you.”

Ellie’s eyes widen before she smiles brilliantly. “A genius witch huh?”

Colt rolls his eyes but he can’t hide the smile anymore. “Yeah, yeah enjoy it while you can. I keep my compliments a maximum of three a month.”

“Sounds like I still have two more then,” Ellie grins.

Colt chuckles as he shakes his head at her, his eyes sparkling in a soft gold, and Ellie can’t help but feel…vulnerable under his eyes. She doesn’t hate the feeling but rather welcomes it. Even if it does make her feel like there’s a knot in her chest that she can’t unravel.

“Wanna see something cool?” She asks to try to distract herself from him.

“Sure,” Colt shrugs but the curiosity in his voice is unmistakable. “Show me.”

Ellie nods as she takes a step forward and faces the sea. She raises both of her hands, the blue sparks already dancing around her fingertips, and with a quick flick of her wrist her magic descends and lands on the waves below.

“Holy shit!” Colt exclaims as he takes a step forward, his eyes latching to a patch of the once blue ocean now sparkling and shining with a color of brilliant gold below them. “How the hell did you do that?”

“I learned how the ocean absorbs light to give it that blue color in mortal school. So if you use magic to mess around with the wavelength of the light you can pretty much change the colors to whatever you like,” Ellie says proudly as she looks at Colt with a big grin.

“Shit that’s amazing, Ellie. I’ve never seen a witch do that!”

Ellie blinks, her hold on her magic on the ocean disappearing as she regards him seriously. “You called me Ellie.”

“Yeah,” Colt says, suddenly aware that the name slipped out without his permission, and he doesn’t really know how to handle that, his tongue seemingly so loose and free when he’s in front of Ellie Wheeler. So he resorts to what he knows best, teasing. “Or do you like Miss Half a Witch more?”

“Definitely not,” Ellie laughs, her gaze holding his as she unconsciously leans in closer to him. “I like hearing you say my name.”

“Yeah?” Colt steps closer to her with a wide grin. “I know a way for you to hear it more.”

Ellie bites the bottom of her lip, his intentions definitely not lost on her. After all, they’ve be dancing around each other since they’ve met and it always ends with tension just bubbling on the surface. She knows, that if she accepts now, it won’t end with just a kiss.

A better part of her tells her that no, this is a bad idea. That sleeping with a vampire, a Primordial vampire, a Primordial vampire helping with the investigation, is number one on top ten things a good detective shouldn’t do.

And yet a part of her, the one that seems to call out to him so instinctually tells her that—one night can’t hurt, right?

Her eyes momentarily flick to the Cavalieri parked near them before she looks back at him. She licks her lips as her eyes dance with an excited and hungry blue.

“Show me then Colt.”

[paigesturning]

Race in 5e: Who Is at Your Table?

I had to write an argumentative essay for one of my classes this semester. I was really into the idea I had, and gave it a shot! I think this might be one of the best pieces I’ve ever written.

Word count: 2995 TW: Discussions of race science, orientalism, and references to white supremacist rhetoric

Writing is difficult, and it’s even more difficult to write collaboratively. This applies to TTRPG as much as it applies to novels. Sure, the DM could simply railroad the players into sessions of combat, lock them into a certain path, or make their other options so terrible that they simply must go the way the story is leading, but it’s bad practice. After all, though it’s not a traditional story, written down in book form for distribution, TTRPG relies on the interplay between the DM’s idea for what should happen in the story, and the players’ ideas. Unlike writing a book, however, TTRPGs rely on another influence, rather than just the set of people who have agreed to tell a story. There’s always at least one other person in the situation, who might be completely unknown to the DM and players. I refer, of course, to the game designer. TTRPGs have far more freedom than video games, but the decisions made by the game designer have the same amount of weight in both mediums. In Skyrim, for example, this looks like a prioritization of combat mechanics over puzzle solving mechanics or relationship mechanics. Though both are implemented in the game, there’s not nearly as many options in playstyle for relationships, or variation in puzzle types, for it to be considered a romance game, or a puzzle game. In TTRPG, the influence of the designer is often far less apparent. In 5e, your character can do basically whatever they want so long as the other people at the table agree that it’s something they want to interact with. However, with some exception, you will not be able to run a game set, for example, in real-world Chicago or on a transport vessel in space. Players tend to be locked into a fantasy setting. Like Skyrim, 5e is a system that prioritizes combat in a magical, pseudo-European medieval setting. It’s a mix of mechanics, and built-in worldbuilding that can allow us to come to this conclusion - each spell, if it doesn’t explicitly add or remove hit points from a target, changes the rules for when and how combat can happen, and each class is described in their flavor text in high fantasy terms, often opening with the examples of ways each one can be useful in combat. True as all this may be, it is, at its core a neutral thing, and I find myself blessed to occasionally be at the tables of others as a game designer and homebrewer. All games must make assumptions about the kind of game players want, and must do their best to fulfil those expectations, the same way a speaker might attempt to predict the thoughts, previous knowledge, and counter-arguments of their audience. However, in 5e, there lies a certain set of assumptions that I personally find troubling, and in fact in need of some serious reworking. The way that race functions in 5e represents an old-fashioned way of viewing the world. In the most direct terms, yeah, it’s kinda racist. Therefore, the assumptions 5e makes in their race system, represented in mechanics that both promote archaic ways of thinking and force the narrative in directions the players and DM may be uncomfortable with, means that it is time to either dramatically change the way race works, or pass over the system entirely.

When a DM is preparing to start a new game of 5e, one very good place to start is the Dungeon Master’s Guide, or DMG. In it, theoretically, are the tools for DMs and players alike to better understand exactly what the game they are playing looks like. In many ways, it’s a behind the scenes look at what goes into planning a session. For example, each “encounter”, or a portion of the game in which the players fight enemies or find ways around them, there’s a bit of calculation which can tell you what enemies will be appropriate for your party size and level. However, in a new game, before even doing that, you should go to the beginning of chapter 1, on page 9. It lists the assumptions the rules make about your setting, which is a helpful tool for anyone attempting to rectify the base rules with a far-out, high-concept world. They are as follows: “Gods Oversee the World”, “Much of the World is Untamed”, “The World is Ancient”, “Conflict Shapes the World’s History”, and “The World is Magical”. On paper, that’s all you need to know (though it might be worth noting that on page 43 the book contradicts this and gets more specific about what sort of multiverse is required to support the rules). These are five basic rules anyone can follow, rules that most people working to create a fantasy setting would have followed anyway, especially in such a combat-focused system. However, in the Player’s Handbook, (abbreviated as PHB) there are additional assumptions about the setting you’ll be playing in, most notably in the section on the different races that appear in 5e. For starters, each race has a small box that explains how the other races in the game are likely to view them. Taken from page 37, when the book is discussing how Gnomes (a small race of humanoids with large heads and thin limbs) think about their place among other races, “It's rare for a gnome to be hostile or malicious unless he or she has suffered a grievous injury. Gnomes know that most races don't share their sense of humor, but they enjoy anyone's company just as they enjoy everything else they set out to do.” They give no explanation for why gnomes tend to be “Good”, in terms of 5e’s morality system. Perhaps this isn’t an oversight, and instead they are allowing you to fill in the blanks yourself? Do the gnomes perhaps have free healthcare, while some others do not? 

I am of course being facetious. I am certain the creators didn’t think quite so far ahead, and instead just wanted to paint a picture of the world they envisioned. It’s not some great sin of design, of course, to do this, and I will admit I am guilty of it in my own design. However, this is just one of the smaller examples of 5e making decisions for the DM and the players. Unlike some other portions of the rules, that brief note can be ignored with little to no need for creating a replacement. You could just as easily scribble the note out of the book, and leave a black sharpie stain where it once sat. Unfortunately, there are other decisions made about race that are much harder to ignore without a level of homebrewed (or player-created) mechanics. For example, a little later, on page 43, the book tells you about the specific mechanical benefits that half-orcs get. Two in particular stand out to me as disturbing. The first, Menacing, means that “You gain proficiency in the Intimidation skill”. The other is Savage Attacks, which reads “When you score a critical hit with a melee weapon attack, you can roll one of the weapon's damage dice one additional time and add it to the extra damage of the critical hit”. There is no way in which these cannot be seen as narrative decisions on the part of the creators. Exactly what is it about an orc’s presence that would mean it is more intimidating than any other person? One could surmise that, perhaps they are much larger than most people, or that their rarity means that people are not used to their size and tusks. Perhaps I only speak for myself, but I do not often find myself intimidated by people who look different from what I am used to. The explanation the rules provide is that full-blooded-orcs are barbaric raiders, who wantonly destroy and kill, and are considered evil. Why is it, however, that there’s an entire group of people, people with thoughts, feelings, social structures, who can produce viable offspring with members of other groups of people, that the book deems evil? I submit that, in the minds of the creators, there is some sort of orientalist mystique behind the savage barbarian, one that is physically superior, and yet is still no more than fodder to be torn through by the heroes of the story. This isn’t even the worst example of racism built into the game, but to explain this next portion, I will need to explain a concept. 

At its base level, phrenology is, as per the Encyclopedia Britannica, “the study of the conformation of the skull as indicative of mental faculties and traits of character, especially according to the hypotheses of Franz Joseph Gall”. Gall, born in 1758, measured the heads of his colleagues, convicts, and people in asylums, in order to determine traits such as intellect and potentiality for criminal behavior. As with many things invented in late 18th century Europe, this practice was used to fuel European imperialism. The article Of ‘Native Skulls’ and ‘Noble Caucasions’: Phrenology in Colonial South Africa, by Andrew Bank, explains very quickly that “The leading proponents of the new discipline almost uniformly adapted their science of the brain to issues of racial differentiation”. I assume that from here it isn’t difficult to see the direction I am heading with this. Elves, Tieflings, Humans, and Gnomes are given bonuses to Intelligence. Dwarves, Humans, and Elves are given bonuses to Wisdom. Elves, Half-Elves, Humans, Tieflings, Dragonborn, and Halflings are given bonuses to Charisma. Of the races present in the PHB, Half-Orcs are the only ones that don’t get any bonuses to the so-called “Mental Stats”. Physical stats, on the other hand, include Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution, and Half-Orcs get bonuses to Strength and Constitution. In mechanical terms, this leads to a fairly good balance. The other classes serve as either well-rounded jacks-of-all-trades, or are specialized for certain casters, or help fit an archetype of dexterous fighter/caster combinations, while the Half-Orcs are specialized for non-caster tanks, such as the Barbarian or the Fighter. This makes narrative sense as well; if Half-Orcs are raised by the orcish side of their family, they are far more likely to be brutal in martial combat, trained to fight and kill anyone who might have supplies or treasure for them. 

However much this might “make sense”, I have to ask why this was an addition to the game. I see three possible answers, and by my approximation, they are likely to all be true. The first is that the creators wanted more narrative control than they let on. The second is that they needed those stats to be stand-in numbers to represent various types of spellcaster and are simply ignorant to their implications. The third is that the creators simply find race science unobjectionable. Earlier, I suggested that the game designer joins the players and the DM at the table, through their work. At my table, ignorance and suggestions that some races are simply more intellectually powerful than others is not tolerated, and I should only hope you feel the same way. 

At this point, you’re thinking so loud that I can practically hear it, even in the past. “Ignorance isn’t tolerated? What if the ignorant person in question is willing to change, and well-meaning?”, but if this is what you were thinking, I say with the deepest respect that you’re being just a touch too literal. Of course, if I’ve sat down and agreed to play with someone I know, I am willing to go over why what they said made me uncomfortable. TTRPG is a dialogue, one where the players and the DM must negotiate, not battle, for the story they want to tell, and where everyone must speak up when something happens that makes them upset. The difference between a literal player’s presence and the game designer’s figurative presence is that there is no arguing with a book. In some ways, it’s easier to change a book’s mind. Simply write your own rules, and move on, there’s no need to debate an actual person. You may also be thinking that 5e simply utilizes the mechanics of previous editions. While that is technically true, what is the point of creating a new edition if you can’t change things moving forward? And what’s more, each of my criticisms can be moved onto 1e. The biggest criticism I expect against my argument however, isn’t any of this. Obviously, only one of the races in 5e is human. Nothing in 5e indicates that one race of human is significantly better or worse than any other race of human, and so surely it can’t be racism. Again, you may be thinking a little too literally. In the world supposed by 5e, each race is seen as a person, and (depending on the setting and narrative your group constructs) has the same rights to freedom and life, and yet some are just more mentally skilled than others as soon as they are born. How often in reality do the dregs of society say something along the lines of “it isn’t that I think [members of a certain race] aren’t people or should be enslaved, it’s just that I think that white people are inherently smarter” to make an effort of sounding more reasonable? It isn’t that I think the races in 5e are 1:1 parallels to real-world racist stereotypes. Instead, it’s a matter of philosophy, race-based pseudoscience, and ideology that makes 5e (and previous editions) racist, without major rules upheavals. 

However, in some cases, it would require such an overhaul of a system that it isn’t worth it. Most people would look at the rules for 5e’s races and pale at the thought of changing it completely. Do you get rid of stats completely? Do you select whatever stats you want by yourself? Perhaps you instead get certain bonuses when you select your class, rather than your race? These are all possibilities, and I have played games that utilized some of these options. Aside from the strength of reducing the amount of racism in 5e, it also increases the amount of choice a player has when creating their character. It isn’t unheard of to have a dwarf that uses Dexterity and Charisma as it’s primary abilities, but it is poorly optimized in comparison to the options of Half-Elf or Tiefling, and though it takes a bit more work than just handing a player the PHB, I believe it is worth it in the end. There’s no shame in admitting defeat, though. It’s not every day that I feel like fixing another person’s game, and I design games. And I do it for fun. It is the talent I am blessed with, and my lifelong burden. I understand not wanting to put in the effort. However, my suggestion isn’t that you walk away from TTRPG forever, scorned by the problems in 5e, never to roll a die again. Instead, it might be worth your time looking into other systems of play. Whenever I recommend a system to someone who has only played 5e and is looking for a similar aesthetic, I always turn them toward my personal favorite, Dungeon World (abbreviated as DW). DW is, in many ways, the game that I thought I was playing when I first started playing 5e. Looking through the PHB, it seems very comprehensive to incoming players. But to go back to the example of Skyrim, there’s a suggestion when you start it for the first time that you are about to enter a world of endless possibility, only to be shoehorned into a game that directly prioritizes combat. Dungeon World, while it has far less comprehensive rules for combat, one of its biggest strengths is that it has far fewer rules in general. That isn’t to say that it’s harder to follow. Instead of having intense, complicated rules for combat, every moment in the game is subject to “moves” in which, when you say that your character is doing something, the GM - Game Master, in contrast to the Dungeon Master of 5e - can tell you that the outcome is uncertain, and that it might be difficult. When this happens, you roll two six-sided dice, and the game provides very comprehensive rules to help you resolve it. When you choose a race, you get one extra move and nothing else - an option easily alterable, if one finds it uncomfortable. Blades in the Dark, a similar fantasy system, resolves roles in a similar manner, once again, with a much lesser emphasis on violence, and a much stronger emphasis on magic heists. It’s races have no mechanical benefit, and can be completely ignored if so desired. 

Creating a system is difficult, I know. Playtesting aside, it’s a combination of finding something special that you want to create, deciding what the players will be looking for, and editing draft after draft. It’s also difficult, both logistically and emotionally, to kick someone out of a campaign. It’s my belief though that a line should be drawn when someone in the game insists on adding not only social, but biological inferiority to characters of certain races. It’s a privilege to have your work at someone else’s table, and it’s a privilege that can be revoked. Once again, playing 5e isn’t some ethical failing, or mortal offence. However, it is worth evaluating what changes can be made to 5e’s race system, and if it’s worth it to you to not switch to another system. If you have found any of this compelling, consider your other options. In addition to what I’ve already mentioned, there are designers out there who can bring you into space, cities filled with dark magic and/or under control by cosmic monsters, or honey conventions where there are a few bears trying to steal stuff. Next time you get the urge to roleplay, just consider what I’ve said here, and think about who you’re inviting to your table.

Bibliography

LaTorra, Sage, and Adam Koebel. Dungeon World. 1st ed., The Burning Wheel, 2012.

Harper, John. Blades in the Dark. Evil Hat Productions LLC., 2017.

Works Cited

Mearls, Mike, and Jeremy Crawford. Player's Handbook. 5th ed., Wizards of the Coast LLC, 2014.

Mearls, Mike, and Jeremy Crawford. Dungeon Master's Guide. 5th ed., Wizards of the Coast LLC, 2014.

“Phrenology.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., www.britannica.com/topic/phrenology.

Bank, Andrew. “Of 'Native Skulls' and 'Noble Caucasians': Phrenology in Colonial South Africa.” Journal of Southern African Studies, vol. 22, no. 3, 1996, pp. 387–403. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/2637310. Accessed 26 Mar. 2020.

[demigodofhoolemere]

Long bitterness below because I saw something that drove me crazy and I wasn’t gonna be able to rest until I articulated my frustrated thoughts

~~~~~

@ the person who wrote this I just wanna talk

https://screenrant.com/mcu-avengers-most-shameless-things-loki-ever-done/

Most of these are just outright wrong and it only takes the slightest glance at canon events to prove them as such, and the ones that have any amount of accuracy to them are devoid of critical context.

I don’t remember seeing much of this stuff before Ragnarok but it’s everywhere now and it’s kind of telling of the narrative bias that movie planted in everyone’s heads that people are now looking back with a lens that’s colored to be against him from the outset without bothering to take into consideration context, critical thinking skills, or empathy. The narrative tells us that he’s just bad so let’s not look any further than that I guess.

Wasn’t gonna debate each of them but the more I think about it the more it’s gonna bug me until I do, so here comes the bitter canon police...

Number 10

1) Right from the off: “Loki and Thor have always had a love/hate relationship — though it gravitates more toward the ‘hate’ part.” Um... always? Because last I checked, despite their differences, they grew up as best friends. Their problems that we see onscreen span from 2011-2017, a measly 6 years compared to over a thousand years of life together. This is a blip on the radar, one that certainly doesn’t constitute leaning towards mainly hate for each other. Heck, even during this time period, they’re clearly shown to love each other. Loki definitely gets angry, but I wouldn’t say he outright “loathes” Thor, at least not in a way that diminishes the love he also has for him.

2) “As such, Loki has betrayed Thor and his adoptive family many times.” This is so wrong I barely have the energy to explain why. People love to give examples of all of Loki’s supposed betrayals and they pretty much all fall down under scrutiny. The only ones I can understand listing are lying to Thor about Odin being dead, along with his attempts to kill Thor at the climax of the first movie (this stuff was when he was waaay out of his right mind, btw — not that he’s not responsible for his actions, but context is still important when taking into account anything he does), and various things in Ragnarok that were out of character for him to do in the first place. Anything else, even if it’s bad, cannot be counted specifically as betrayals against his adoptive family, since things like coming to Earth weren’t about them. If only a couple of instances are able to qualify as betrayals, then no, he has not done this “many” times, no matter how much people like to push that idea.

3) “Of course, Thor often got the brunt of it.” I’ll let that one stand because Thor got a fair number of screams aimed at him, but honestly, I’d say the person most negatively affected by Loki’s actions tends to be Loki. Thor really didn’t get more than he could handle. And as much as I love him, he’s not innocent of dishing his own stuff onto Loki as well. Wording it this way makes it sound like he’s Loki’s abuse victim (when more than anything, they are both the victims of Odin’s awful parenting rather than each other).

4) “So, it’s basically a normal sibling relationship that they portrayed. Oh, and Loki is never apologetic about his violence against Thor — siblings through and through.” First of all when I see stuff like this I have deep concerns for other people’s relationships with their siblings and am reminded of how grateful I am for my sister, but secondly, I don’t get the impression that Asgardians do much apologizing overall. You don’t see Thor apologizing for violence against Loki either. Terrible habit, but it seems to be the culture they were raised in. Besides, I feel like dying for Thor multiple times is decent substitution. (And while it’s not totally clear what he was specifically referring to, it’s worth noting Loki did profusely tell Thor he was sorry on Svartalfheim.)

Number 9

1) Oh my word, I am tired of seeing this. That scene was filmed as a real death, and everyone from Tom Hiddleston to Kevin Feige continued to refer to it as such after the reshoots. I wouldn’t know where to find it right now but I know there’s a quote from Kevin about it being real and that it was only just non-fatal enough for him to survive it. The only place anyone ever says he faked it? In Ragnarok, which is already filled to the brim with retcons, and it’s said by Thor (or whoever that is in Ragnarok who took Thor’s face) who has no knowledge of what really happened, he just makes assumptions and accusations that Loki isn’t given the chance to refute. It. Was. Not. Fake.

2) “He was rather casual about it and didn’t care much about how the rest of his family would take the news.” Source? We don’t exactly get the time to see his feelings on the matter. Also, Thor is the only one who would have cared anyway. Frigga was killed and Odin wanted him dead.

Number 8

1) “One of the reasons why Loki faked his own death was to seize a great opportunity [...]” He must not be good at carrying out his own plans then, since he immediately genuinely tried to offer the throne to Thor. Thor turned it down. Was there still satisfaction from getting the chance to prove that he can be a king? Yeah, because he’s still never felt like he’s been able to prove himself as equal. The chance to prove people wrong about him, and especially the chance to prove his own worth to himself, is exciting, hence that grin at the end. He’s certainly not upset at that opportunity. But that only happened because Thor didn’t take him up on the offer.

2) “The worst part was that he cast a spell on Odin and exiled him in a retirement home on Earth.” The... the worst part? That he removed the man who would have killed Thor upon return and was willing to have all of Asgard and everyone in it destroyed? And still had the mercy to send him somewhere that he’d be safe and taken care of every single day? Uh... okay.

3) “For a time, Loki ruled the Asgardians in their process of recovery from the Dark Elves’ attack.” Yeah, exactly. Thanks for aiding my point. Even Ragnarok of all things, despite the issues I have with the way Loki was portrayed as king, still manages to prove this point by showing things on Asgard being peaceful and repaired.

Number 7

1) Mostly correct this time, but missing the context of why Loki is angry enough at Odin to want the Dark Elves to go after him. Without considering all of the lies and heartache Odin caused that sent Loki’s mind spiraling in the first place, let alone the fact that he left him to spend the next 4,000 years of his life in solitary (which is outright torture, and Loki knew it would be because he seemed to have no problem with the thought of being executed instead), it makes it sound like it was a purely petty betrayal rather than based in any reason. Loki does everything for a reason.

2) “One would think that Loki would’ve learned a lot from this but he kept on being his usual self after a short bout of guilt and anger in his cell.” First of all I think you greatly underestimate how long that’s gonna stick with Loki. Secondly, if by ‘kept on being his usual self’ you mean the immediately following scenes wherein he helps Thor go get revenge on the monsters that killed Frigga and ultimately dies to avenge her and save his brother’s life, then you forgot the actual events of canon again and also inadvertently complimented him by saying that’s normal for him.

EDIT: You know how you can watch something a thousand times and somehow it takes that thousandth time to catch something? Yeah. Anyway, Loki directed Kurse to Asgard’s power plant so he could turn the shield off. THAT is what he was directing him towards, it was to let the Elves in to get to Odin. He didn’t even unknowingly lead Kurse to Frigga, Kurse just went where Malekith was, and Malekith found Frigga because she was guarding the Stone. Kurse would have killed her anyway, Loki’s actions had no bearing on that. Hold him responsible for getting the shield shut down and letting more Elves in (while still referring to point 1 for why), but Frigga’s death never had anything to do with him because Kurse got out anyway. Loki just doesn’t know that. But a character blaming themselves doesn’t mean they’re right.

Number 6

1) Another thing I wish would stop cropping up in all discussions of Loki. Stealing the Tesseract isn’t his ~thing~. I’m annoyed with this one just on principle lol.

2) “Throughout all the MCU movies, Loki has stolen the Tesseract at least thrice, each in three different movies. He just doesn’t know when to give up.” None of those times were just for the lolz like people say. In Avengers he had to get it for Thanos to save his life. In Ragnarok, what the heck was he supposed to do, leave an Infinity Stone floating around in space for anyone to get? It’s not like it would have been destroyed with Asgard. Better to take it and keep it safe. And in Endgame, while I felt that was starting to lean too much into ‘haha I love taking the Tesseract’ territory, it was to get away from the imprisonment and possible death that would have been waiting for him in either SHIELD or Asgardian custody. Loki does everything for a reason.

Number 5

1) “[...] he immediately embraced his evil tendencies.” ROFL I’m sorry but the idea of THIS kid having had prior evil tendencies is actually hilarious.

2) “[...] killing countless innocents on Earth [...]” In canon, there were 74 fatalities in the Battle of New York, which were caused by the Chitauri that Thanos sent rather than directly by Loki. Loki’s personal kill count on Earth can be listed on one hand — literally, it’s something like 5 confirmed onscreen deaths by his hand, with several other unconfirmed ones because we just see him attack but not how badly people got hit. The 80 people that Natasha mentions were the SHIELD agents that went down with the base in the beginning, which wasn’t Loki’s doing, outside of the few guards he killed when he got there. That was pretty easy to count.

3) “[...] and probably other planets as well.” Supposition. Not even the slightest bit of hinting of that in canon. Next.

4) Loki himself was being tortured and under extreme emotional duress and mental manipulation during this movie. Not that he’s automatically 100% absolved of responsibilities, because he did make choices of his own, but again - CONTEXT. This was a fight for his life. He was not well, physically, mentally, or emotionally. There is almost nothing he did in this movie that he would do under normal circumstances in his right mind.

5) “In addition to that, he also put his homeworld of Asgard in constant danger. Odin’s words about Loki being followed by death and destruction wherever he goes definitely rang true.” If you’re referring to the first movie when he lets the Jotuns in, both instances of that were planned in such a way that no Asgardians were supposed to be in danger; he couldn’t have known the guards to the vault wouldn’t be able to take them (and that first plan was intended to protect Asgard from a young and arrogant Thor’s reign; another of few instances that can count as betrayal, but done with reason), and the second time he brought them in was specifically to kill them because, with the combination of his unstable mind and the kind of things Odin praises, he thought it would finally gain him approval from his father (and he was raised with no regard for Jotun lives therefore he didn’t even grasp that it was wrong). That’s the only time Asgard was even slightly jeopardized by Loki. In every single other instance, he is pretty darn devoted to protecting Asgard. Time and again. Odin’s words are a load of crap. Loki has only been surrounded by things like that in the last couple of years, when out of his right mind or coerced or both. This is not something that has always been, and it’s certainly hypocritical for Odin of all people to be making accusations like that when he and his favorite son have done worse things. Heck, Thor’s body count on Jotunheim in the very beginning is on its own a larger number than Loki’s body count in the entire MCU, all for being called a princess. Many of the heroes in the franchise have worse — even significantly worse — body counts than Loki.

Number 4

1) Tortured and controlled by Thanos. Next.

2) “[...] the culmination of all of Loki’s plans ever since he left Asgard to become a villain.” For one thing I love how this makes it sound like he made the conscious decision to run away and be a villain lol, but I just... you remember how he left Asgard, right? When he made a suicide attempt by falling into the void that he could not possibly think he would survive through? He didn’t exactly have future plans in mind. He was trying to die.

3) Now you’re only assuming people died? I thought it was countless?

Number 3

1) This wasn’t a takeover of Asgard. Frigga, who knew that he’s a Frost Giant, appointed him as regent for the time being. What he did with the power is what’s questionable, but the way he got it was completely legit. There was no scheming — he didn’t even want it at first. The thought of proving himself got to his head but he didn’t take the throne purposely nor was it illegally, or done in deception or under false pretenses.

2) While the things he did were wrong, it was not technically a betrayal of Odin or Asgard. He did what he did precisely because it was the sort of thing his father and his people would usually see as heroic. If you wanna call it a betrayal of Asgard for taking the risk of having Jotuns there, I guess, but not of Odin, and it was not done maliciously towards them. The ones who actually suffered for this were the Jotuns.

3) “[...] quickly transformed into one of Asgard’s most dangerous enemies.” He transformed into Odin’s enemy. If he were an enemy of Asgard he wouldn’t have spent his years on the throne protecting it.

Number 2

1) This one is mostly fair and I consider this to be the worst thing Loki’s done. However, this is hardly about shamelessness. This (and seemingly all of the article) is written in the assumption that his actions were done in his right mind. Again: he was in the middle of a mental breakdown. That doesn’t exonerate him but it’s sure as heck important context.

Number 1

(covered the image because no one needs to see that)

1) “[...] betraying the whole universe just because you can is pure evil.” Yeah, it would be. Good thing for Loki then that that’s not what he did. 

2) “Loki consciously served Thanos with the initial goal of becoming ‘king’ of the Earth.” Loki was consciously fighting to stay alive because disobedience and failure would mean unimaginable horrors.

Working with Thanos is NOT something he would do just because. As far as wanting to be king of Earth goes, Thanos canonically messed with Loki’s head. He made him think that was what he wanted, just like he dug into his mind to make him angrier at Thor. Thor himself, who has known Loki their entire lives, noted that his behavior and goals were uncharacteristic of him.

3) “It seems like Loki got his just desserts on that front.” Gotta say, I’m genuinely a little horrified when I see people say that Loki deserved that death. No one deserves to have their windpipe crushed and neck snapped brutally by their abuser. That was the most gratuitously graphic character death I’ve ever seen. Even if you think he wasn’t tortured by him before and willingly joined forces with him, he still wouldn’t deserve that fate. It’s too morbid for anybody. ‘Just desserts’ is supposed to be about justice. There’s no carrying out of justice here. It’s just senseless and cruel, and done to a man who had gotten out of the dark place in his life to start anew.

~~~~~

That was longer than I ever intended to let myself get worked up over a dumb ScreenRant post but I feel better with that out of my system.

Here’s to fact-checking before making accusations that have no basis 🥂

[mllemaenad]

'Imagine your children growing up in such a world. If a mage asked it of you, you would have to give him your daughter, not knowing what his plans for her might be. You could not resist him, and neither could she.' - Sorry, this line particularly came to my attention because take away magic and this? Is exactly what happens in the Tabris origin. And to that one Orlesian merchant in Denerim in DA:O. And probably to any number of peasant/elven girls at the hands of nobles every day across Thedas.

No need to be sorry. :)

You’re right. Absolutely.

The thing is – take this in context. This is an answer written by a grand cleric to a nobleman who seems (we don’t have his side of the conversation, obviously, so we can only infer from the substance of the reply) to have been challenging the Chantry’s treatment of mages. If you look at it like that, then what the grand cleric is describing is what happens to almost every mage child in southern Thedas.

Armed men come to your door and take your child away. You have no right to say no. And you have no idea what they’re going to do with them. They may take your child to a Circle across the sea. They may murder them. They may make them Tranquil. They may rape them, beat them, torture them. Maybe you’ll be lucky: maybe your kid is Vivienne or one of the Warden mages. Maybe they’ll do okay.

But you don’t know. And you can’t tell the Templars to go away; that they can’t have your child. They live in a world where this happens to parents every day.

It’s almost too much to imagine. The Circle, the Templars, they’ve shaped my life. I was no more than twelve when they came for me. My mother wept when they fixed the chains to my wrists, but my father was glad to see me gone. He had been afraid, ever since the fire in the barn. Not just afraid of what I could do, but afraid of me, afraid my magic was punishment for whatever petty sins he imagined the Maker sat in judgement upon.

– Anders (short story)

Anders’s mum couldn’t say no. Maybe she wanted to. At bare minimum, it sounds as though she didn’t want to lose her son forever. But that’s what happened. Little Ella is desperate to get back to her parents, because the Templars didn’t even tell them where they were taking her – and when we encounter her, a Templar is threatening her with Tranquillity and strongly implied sexual assault.

Wynne gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom she was allowed one day with before he was taken into Chantry custody. The child, who was names Rhys, was taken to Lydes and from there transferred to the White Spire in Orlais when it was discovered that he, too, was a mage.

– World of Thedas I

They kidnapped a newborn baby and took him to a different damn country. It took decades, and fighting an archdemon, for Wynne to even get the chance to find him again.

Dulci de Launcet was lucky: she’s a noble, so she at least had letters and some general idea of where her kid was, but she hadn’t laid eyes on her son since he was six.

Yeah. Good fucking job, Chantry. You really solved the problem of powerful people coming to your door to abduct your children.

But while, yes, given the context of the letter I think the irony is best understood in relation to mages, I definitely think it can be expanded upon:

The demon had impersonated the human man who had bought her from the slavers that took her in after her father died. She’d had no idea back then who those kind men really were, only that they offered her food and a warm bed to sleep in. Then an even kinder man came to take her from them, and she found herself in his luxurious home and thought herself the luckiest girl in the entire alienage.

How very naive she had been. Count Dorian, as she learned her new master’s name to be, had been in search of an elven whore he could keep as a pet, something he could put in a pretty dress and bring with him on one of his many trips to the capital, like baggage.

– Dragon Age: The Calling

Ah, look. The exact scenario Grand Cleric Francesca was fear-mongering about. A little girl abducted, enslaved and sold to a nobleman who abused and tortured her. Yes, a mage-child as it happens, but that wasn’t apparent at the time. Fiona was vulnerable because she was an elf – an orphaned elf considered expendable by society.

“What they wish is irrelevant.” Celene turned and stalked away from the window. “I am already fighting a war on two fronts. I cannot be seen to fight a war on three.”

“Then don’t.” Briala rose, putting herself in Celene’s path. “Give them justice.”

“A lord for the death of an elf? I … damn this thing.”

With a quick jerk, Celene tore her mask from her face. Her face was flushed beneath, her eyes red from another night of little sleep. “Shall I declare the elves equal citizens before the Maker and the throne as well, while I’m at it?”

“Why not?” Briala took her own mask off, stealing a quick moment to steady herself. “Unless you don’t believe that, and I’m just a jumped-up kitchen slut you haven’t tired of yet.

– Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

Or here: a revolt that ends in genocide, and that begins because it is unthinkable that they arrest a nobleman for murdering an elf. The victim’s name was Lemet. He was killed shielding an eight-year-old boy who threw a rock at a carriage. And the boy said he did it because his mother had been murdered by Orlesian nobility:

“They killed my mother,” the boy said, pulling against Lemet’s grip.

“Be quiet.” Lemet looked back at the coach and heard its joints creak as the guards jumped down to the street. The driver would want to have that oiled, some part of Lemet’s mind noted.

“They can’t come down this street after what they did to her,” the boy insisted. “They can’t!”

– Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

Or this, where soldiers rob, rape and murder their own citizens in the midst of a civil war:

“Two days ago, Lady Seryl’s men rode in and cur down every man and woman working the fields. Killed our guards, killed everyone in the village square. When they finished killing the other soldiers, they fired arrows out onto the water, killed most of our boys in the boats. They took all the food they could find. They spent the night.” A collective flinch splashed across the crowd. “Said we had been assisting enemies of the throne, that this was a lesson to anyone who’d help Gaspard’s men.” At the last, his voice broke. “My lord, I don’t even know who Gaspard is.”

– Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

Or the serial killer who is repeatedly allowed to walk free because he’s a magistrate’s son, and he targets elven children. Or the elven boys who fled to the Qun because a guard raped their sister – no one would arrest him, so they took matters into their own hands.

And yes, of course, you see the exact same thing in Ferelden in the alienage.

I’m sure everyone feels so much safer now they’ve locked up all the mages.

Orlais’s crimes don’t excuse Tevinter’s. That’s where they went wrong with Dorian’s … painful dialogue on slavery. You can’t point to the horrors of Orlesian society and therefore suggest that the Tevinter slave trade is not that awful. It doesn’t work like that. What you can do, though, is say that Tevinter’s crimes don’t excuse Orlais’s – particularly when they tend to do exactly the same shit:

Slavery still thrives in Thedas, even if the trade has been outlawed. Who hasn’t heard the tales of poverty-stricken elves lured into ships by the prospect of well-paying jobs in Antiva, only to find themselves clapped in leg-irons once at sea? And humans fall prey to this, too.

If they’re lucky, they end up in Orlais, which has only “servants.” Most nobles treat them decently because they are afraid of admitting the truth. Orlesians go to great lengths to maintain the fiction that slavery is illegal.

Of course, the greatest consumer of slave labor is the Tevinter Imperium, which would surely crumble if not for the endless supply of slaves from all over the continent. There, they are meat, chattel. They are beaten, used as fodder in the endless war against the Qunari, and even serve as components in dark magic rituals.

—From Black City, Black Divine: A Study of the Tevinter Imperium, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar

– Slavery in the Tevinter Imperium

Fiona is not an anomaly: Orlais kidnaps and sells people into slavery, too.

And this makes sense. Fantasy always draws on the real world, even if they mix and match the cultures and historical periods a bit. So, just like in the real world, you generally have to take anything the wealthy and powerful say with a grain of salt.

The Chantry has a very specific, empire building, agenda. It makes much of problems that aren’t really problems (demons and abominations are not widespread threats, and both are poorly understood); it pins the blame for actual crises on oppressed groups (the Blight is in no way the fault of this random peasant mage from Antiva); it uses racism and religious intolerance to create in- and out-groups (elves [and dwarves, but we haven’t conquered them yet] are degenerate heathens who are preventing the Maker from returning).

As much as I love Dragon Age, what Bioware does sometimes that is … uncomfortable … to use a mild word, is that it lets the powerful rule the narrative. Inquisition is worst at this, because it presents strong voices for people like Cassandra and Cullen, who stick fairly close to the party line. And then it takes characters like Varric and Sera, and distances them from their own cultures … which is fine for individuals but awkward when we’re not letting Briala or Fiona say much either – and where the fuck is Sigrun? No one’s spoken for Orzammar’s casteless since Awakening. But it’s there, to some extent, in all the games.

So the point, always, is that mages and Circles are misdirection. Mages are scapegoats in the Chantry faith who are held responsible for all the bad things, and represent a pretend evil nobility that the Orlesian Chantry is keeping under control.

But the actual problems of this fantasy world are more or less the same as the problems of the real world: powerful nations dominate the continent and force others to bow to their whims and adopt their culture, because empires are just shit; the rich and powerful hoard all the rights to themselves, and can do damn near anything to the poor – particularly where the poor are part of a marginalised group.

What Orlais doesn’t want people to realise is that they are Tevinter. It was never the mages that were the problem, it was the absolute power the Tevinter magisters held over their slaves – a power now held mostly by the Orlesian nobility, who use it in pretty much the same way. Not exclusively, no: of course the nobility of other nations can be, and bloody are, evil fucks. But even there, the Chantry view helps to obscure the truth: you should be scared of empires and those who rule them. Much more scared than you are of a possessed mage.

[rumowrites]

Talents, Part 5

Part one here AO3 here

Runaan visited the shop more and more often after that to see Tinker work. He was fascinated by the way the other was completely focused on whatever he was doing and always startled a little when disturbed. Sometimes he ended up standing in the doorway with no idea how he got there and ended up buying some whetstones to not make a complete fool of himself. He also saw Tinker a few times watching their evening training whenever they closed the shop early. On those days the other elf mostly waited for him to finish in order to demonstrate a new spell or potion he was working on incorporating in his crafts. Runaan was always glad for the diversion the talkative elf brought him and enjoyed listening to him for hours.

Whenever he is away on assignment, he is sure to keep the now numerous bracelets safely tucked under his right bracer. Until now, he only had to use them twice and Tinker always re-enchanted them once he was back.

He was nineteen now and had his own command on most missions. The majority of elves regarded him with a mix of awe and respect, however, he still felt like a child compared to the other soldiers of the squadron. And he kind of was, the next youngest elf had just turned twenty-three and was only with the group for a few months.

Exhaustion filled his bones when he led his group back through the gates of their village, bells announcing their arrival. This mission had been particularly stressful on his part. One of their scouts broke her leg on their way out and Runaan had to use three of Tinker’s healing spells to get her moving again. But the worst part wasn’t the mission itself, it had been their target. A kid, only twelve years old at most but already king of one of the human kingdoms. In his mind, he knew the child had made some terrible decisions, resulting in numerous deaths on either side but he couldn’t get the image of those cold and dead eyes staring up at him.

He had been their leader, it was his duty to carry most of the weight but today he wasn’t sure he was able to.

The sight of a familiar figure at the far end of the crowd gave him new hope. Once the official report was over and done with, Runaan quickly vanished in the crowd before somebody could try and talk to him.

“I’m glad you all got back save.” Was the first thing he heard upon slipping around a dark corner to hide him from view. It startled him a little that Tinker apparently knew how to sneak up on him with ease but soon, his stance relaxed visibly. “I’m glad to be back. Did something happen while we were gone?” The smaller elf shook his head “Not really, you were only gone for a few days. Although I have now officially ended my apprenticeship and am proud to call myself a blacksmith.” He showed Runaan an intricate metal pendant that classified him as smith and jewellery maker. “Tinker that is great!” he praised giving the other a brief hug. It was nice to be back. Really nice. “I would ask you to spend the evening together but we have a lot to do in the workshop and I probably have to work until the early hours today.” Runaan felt a slight sting of disappointment but nodded, still keeping the smile glued to his face “No problem, I will be here for a while either way. Training the new recruits so maybe the next days?” The prospect of seeing him for a longer time clearly pleased the short haired elf “Okay, well then, Varou is already waiting for me to get back, See you soon!” Runaan raised his arm to wave at the already parting figure “See you soon.”

He managed to get home without running into anybody and counted that as a personal win. The last thing he could use right now was someone congratulating him on killing a child.

Even though he felt like he couldn’t possibly hold his eyes open much longer, sleep wouldn’t come. So he dressed in a light shirt with wide pants and went down to train. He did that until his arms were shaking but still, he found no rest. After an hour of fruitless meditation on the living room floor, he decided to go for a run in the woods. It wasn’t that late after all and a little bit of sunlight still illuminated the trees. He ran wide circles around the house until his legs finally gave out and dragged himself back inside. The exhaustion induced sleep he falls in just meters from the front door does nothing to regain any of his strength. He wakes every few hours from a nightmare and when he doesn’t Runaan sees the boy they killed, begging him to spare his life.

Luckily he had no official training until the recruits arrive in a week and a half and was therefore able to hide in the house for most of the day. In the evening, the whole charade started again, until he finally gave in, took his swords and bow and headed out into the night to train. The sun was dawning when he climbed back into the house through a window. He doesn’t know why he didn’t take the door instead. By now, he was fully lost to sleep deprivation and a certain human child that keept ghosting through his mind. Runaan passeed the day in a state that was equally awake and asleep on the seating area of the kitchen because his bed was just too far away.

He had to open the door once for the merchant who is delivering food for him and the surrounding houses but otherwise stayed inside. When he caught his reflection in the mirror next to the door, a stranger was staring back at him through tired, dark rimmed eyes.

Runaan decided he finally had to get a grip and took a cold shower, fixing his hair like Tinker had done that one time in the woods and made himself something to eat. Everything took painfully long because he’s always about to pass out but at the end of the day, he was clean and in fresh clothes and felt less like a complete failure.

He told himself over and over that it had to be done until he believes it and even managed to get some scarce hours of undisturbed sleep at night. He’s up again early the next morning, going through the training routine he invented for his days off.

Afterwards, he dressed casually in a dark blue shirt that he knows contrasts his eyes perfectly with a form fitting black leather vest and headed out to the shop. It's because after his last few assignments he really needs new arrowheads and not because of the handsome elf working there. At least that’s what he told himself upon entering the cramped workshop.

Tinker was immediately there to greet him, leaving the pendant he'd been working on behind. “Do you have some of the Arrowheads at hand I got here the last time? The last missions proved to be very projectile-consuming.” The short haired elf nodded and began to look into different boxes until he found what he’d been looking for “Ah, here!” he exclaims holding up a small carton that is somehow labelled ‘R. Arrows’ “We still have about- “ Tink paused for a moment, staring into the box intently “-twelve! Twelve heads left. How many do you need?”

Runaan ends up buying all of them because he does really need new Arrows and they are without doubt the best he ever used. He told Tinker as much who then blushes in the most adorable way imaginable. With newfound energy, he conducted the rest of his shopping, mostly consisting of vegetables and new clothes. A few non-combat-uniform outfits in his wardrobe would certainly do him good. Especially when a little bird (Varou) had given him a hint that Tink loved the form-fitting sleeveless shirts he sometimes sported under his general Armour.

Slowly, the days get colder and they finish training earlier because of the lack of light. Soon, they would have to go in one of the large halls specifically built for winter training. One day after a particular ruff session, Runaan sees a familiar figure leaning against the stone wall next to the gate, waiting for him. He can’t help but smile at the sight of the other elf whose face is almost completely covered by a huge brown scarf. “Hey” he greets, tucking his coat a little closer around his body. He is still warm from the running they did in the last hour but the warmth would quickly fade.

“Hello” Tinker replied, holding out a package to him “I know you usually use a bow or your dual swords but can never really take the bow with you because it takes up too much space so I tried something new.” He gestured for him to open it and studied his reaction carefully “I mean it’s not completely done, there is still some fine-tuning to do but-“ he rambled on only to be stopped by Runaan’s breathy “It’s beautiful. I- I can’t accept that.” Inside the thick cotton cloth were two swords that were made to connect in the middle forming a full-sized war-bow. “You can and you will.” Tink reached for the two blades snapping them together in the middle. The string just seemed to appear out of nowhere once the handles were joined. At Runaan’s questioning glance, he pointed at several moonstones that were enclosed in the hilts “It’s enchanted. The string will automatically attach once the pieces are joined.”

“Thank you, Tink. Really, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” A grin appeared on his face at the nickname “Well I thought you could train with it a bit and then give me a feedback so I can adjust it until they work like you need them to.”

When Runaan entered the shop a few days later to hand over the weapon for correction, Tinker found a little note attached to it. He immediate opened the folded paper and stared at the text in utter disbelief.

“The handles could use a little more weight to balance the blades and you can increase the draw strength of the bow a good six pounds. Thank you. Dinner at my place tomorrow, I will pick you up from the shop.”

He read the few lines over and over, trying to process the information. Apparently he hadn’t answered a couple times when Varou called him because the old elf was suddenly standing in front of him, looking concerned. “Are you ok?” Tink only nodded, slowly setting the note aside. “Yeah, more than ok actually.” He couldn’t help the grin that threatened to split his face.

“So did the coward finally ask you out?” his teacher was never one to be subtle but he still startled for a second. “What?” the word was out before he regained his composure, looking at Varou with a puzzled expression. “The young Assassin you fancy, Runaan, did he finally ask you out for moon’s sake?”  It took him a couple of seconds to fully understand what the smith wanted from him “I- I don’t know? I think so? Maybe?” Tink helplessly clasped his hands in front of his face. With a fond sigh, Varou reached for the note “Here let me see.”

“And?” Tinker asked with a feeling between joy and anxiety. “He’s definitely asking you out. Finally might I add? Seeing you two dance around each other for the last three years was equally cute as it was pathetic.” He handed the note back before continuing “Although I must say he was the most entertaining customer I had those past years. By now he must be in possession of enough whetstones to last him at least a lifetime.”

Tink furrowed his brow “What do you mean?” the question resulted in full out laughter from the old elf “What I mean, my boy, is that this stone cold assassin walked in here a couple of times without realizing and bought whetstones so that he wouldn’t have to admit that he came to see you. Also, all those swords that needed fixing? The squadron never in my whole life had that great of a problem keeping their blades intact as the time you have been working here.”  

“You think so?” he hated how hopeful he sounded but deep down he had always known that something connected them. Varou rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in in gentle encouragement “Yes, I do.”

When Tinker was leaving the shop that night, the stocky smith called him back in “You might want to pack some spare clothes tomorrow.” He winked before ushering him out again.

He barley slept that night, thinking about the invitation over and over. It both, filled him with anticipation and anxiety to go on a real date. What should he wear? Should he bring flowers? What if this wasn’t a date and he made a complete fool of himself? What if it was a date and he made a complete fool of himself?

Runaan on the other hand was completely calm. Or that was what he told himself as he cleaned the whole house for the second time that night and prepared way too much food for two people. He even arranged some flowers around the general kitchen and living area to give the room less of an armoury-mixed-with-a-training-room look.

He spent most of the night training to get the agitation out of his bones and changed his outfit four times before finally falling asleep mere two hours before he had to get up again.

Training that day was humiliating to say the least. Kourou who never managed to hit him anymore even on a good day had him on his back more times he cared to count. Runaan simply couldn’t help but thinking about Tinker, brushing the now slightly too long bangs out of his face. His partner regarded him with curious looks when he actually changed after training. Something he almost never did. Usually, he just threw the coat that accompanied his uniform over his shoulders and went straight home.

Today however, he changes together with the other assassins, ignoring the appreciative glances from some of his fellow soldiers and pulls a fresh shirt from his bag. It’s dark blue and sleeveless, hugging his figure perfectly. Runaan layers it with a black leather vest that accentuates his broad shoulders and slim waist before throwing the long dark green uniform coat over his shoulders. He silently escaped before Kourou could riddle him with questions of where he was going and whether he went on a date or not.

Tinker was still busy when he arrived so he leaned against the door, watching the other work on several intricate necklaces. It took the short haired elf almost ten minutes before he noticed his presence as focused as he was. The blush that appeared on the other’s face afterwards was way to adorable to not smile in response.

Tink barley registered the little bell that announced a new customer as he shaped a moonstone pendant. It was a custom order and he had spent the last three hours figuring out how to attach it to a necklace without disturbing the geometric pattern. When he looked up from his work a few minutes later, he was greeted with the sight of Runaan intently watching him. The Assassin was dressed in his winter uniform, a sight for the gods really. His hands were pushed into the deep pockets of the fur trimmed coat and Tink found his eyes sparkled even more than usually. He quickly focused back on his work, feeling the blush appear on his face. “I’m almost done here.” The short haired elf said while tweaking the last metal parts into place, checking if everything ended up where it should be. “I’m in no hurry. Take your time.” In contrary to his usually stern tone, Runaan’s voice was now filled with warmth and slightly hoarse from hours of shouting commands at the new recruits.

Varou appeared in the doorway shortly after his arrival, gesturing for Runaan to follow him back in the forge. “I could use a hand here, Tinker can pack his things while you help me.” He wasn’t quite sure what the other was going for but obediently followed the old elf, shedding his coat and placing it on one of the unused worktables.  

As soon as they reached the gleaming fire, Varou pushed a pair of thick leather gloves in his hands followed by a piece of dark yellow glowing iron. “Hold this would you?” he asked, gesturing for the anvil. Runaan placed the metal on the flat iron surface and watched as the old smith formed it this way and that until an axe blade was visible. “You are here to pick up Tinker?” the question was both parts surprising and expected. “Yes.” There was no point in lying to the elf. “If you hurt him…” he began, hitting the metal with a little more force than just moments ago before placing it back in the fire. “I would never.” Runaan held the other’s gaze until the smith finally nodded “Glad we understand each other.”

Chapter 6

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

time travel aus, amirite? since we’ve all decided to start talking about our ideas, i thought i’d throw my hat into the ring. i’ve actually had this idea for a while, i just wasn’t sure what to do with it because i barely have the patience for one-shots, let alone the continuous plotted longfic this would need

it’s not my idea, of course, i’m incapable of original thought. it’s based off this can-i-really-call-it-a-genre-if-it’s-two-fics-with-the-same-premise where some combination of maedhros, maglor, elros, and elrond land in the blessed realm before - even the unchaining, in my take, when the ambarussa are still children and the world is blissful. it’s more specifically my take on this fic, which takes elrond and elros from very early in their captivity and maedhros from just before the silmaril theft and maglor from several centuries into the second age. i just plugged my own characterisations into it, and, uh. the specific setup this not-genre uses is that maitimo and makalaurë *~mysteriously disappear,~* throwing their extended family into chaos, blah blah blah, and then a few decades later -

well. with my characterisations, we have a nightmare hellbeast who’s burned up everything he used to be in singular pursuit of an unreachable goal and has carved his very self into a weapon, a completely drained beaten-up husk barely cognisant of reality past the screaming in his mind who’s so utterly broken it’s debatable if he even counts as an elda, and two extremely young extremely traumatised children in a completely unfamiliar land- and skyscape whose only adult they can maybe-kind-of trust is currently bleeding from the eyes and shrieking wordless notes of utter despair

yeah, this au’s Fun. elrond and elros have maybe eight words of quenya between them, most of which are obscene, maedhros will act completely normal until he suddenly stabs himself in the arm because can’t this stupid hallucination end already, he has a character arc to tank, and maglor seems completely unaware he’s not still on the beach having the same cyclic arguments with the ghosts of the people he failed. the elves of valinor aren’t completely unprepared to deal with this, at least not the ones who remember cuiviénen, but it’s still a massive shock to see two of the children they came to the land of the gods to protect twisted and scarred like the worst victims of the dark. especially since noone can figure out why

so yeah. i have trouble finishing oneshot collections, so i doubt i’ll ever write this out in full, but i do have a lot of Scenes. fëanáro staring in utter horror at the oath, whispering ‘i made this.’ elros and elrond’s somewhat hole-filled explanation of their backstory devolving into a sindarin argument, and when the family asks tyelkormo what they’re talking about he freezes before saying ‘they’re arguing about whether maitimo killed their mother.’ the moment maglor finally managed to get through what happened after they got the silmarils to maedhros, who immediately switches from off-the-cuff self-harm to well-planned suicide attempts. the five-minute period the family hellspawn’s working theory was ‘they’re maitimo and makalaurë from an alternate universe where we’re evil’ (‘is there an evil version of me??? does he eat kids???????’ - tyelko) finwë going full bulldoze taniquetil in the background. fun times, might write some snippets in the future

but i like to think through the mechanics of this kind of time travel story too much, so i started wondering where maitimo and makalaurë, yanno, went. i quickly came to the conclusion that they probably swapped places with their evil future selves, giving me three time travel aus for the price of one! technically four but (a) i’m not sure if or with who the twins would swap and (b) if they did their alternate selves are probably having a really bad time and i don’t particularly want to think about it. the stories maitimo and makalaurë are in... they’re not necessarily any happier, but they are a lot more wtftastic

maitimo falls asleep under the light of the trees, on a relaxing retreat from the demands of court life and family-induced disasters. he wakes up in a world that’s almost completely dark, surrounded by plants he’s never seen before and wearing clothing designed for a much warmer climate, the scent of death in the air. now permanently separated from all his old problems, maitimo rapidly acquires several exciting new ones, including but not limited to:

everyone he ever loved being dead or worse

the lone possible exception, his last surviving little brother, being an almost unrecognisable blood-drenched kinslayer who hates everything in the universe especially himself

said blood-drenched kinslayer almost immediately imprinting on him like a grouchy murderous duckling

his future self having apparently wanted to kill even more people, why

getting dogpiled by like thirty dudes in full armour the instant they showed up at the army of the west’s camp to surrender

getting soul-scanned by eönw two minutes later. not fun

arafinwë pulling him into an enormous hug and then bursting into tears

the subsequent explanation as to just what happened to him and his brothers, which somehow got worse after he’d already thought they’d hit rock bottom like four separate times

proceeding to lose a staring contest with findaráto

the way everyone in camp looks at him like he’s an incredibly dangerous wild animal that might bite at any time

how if half of what arafinwë said is true he can’t even blame them, fuck, fuck

the twin half-elven(?????????????) princes he and his brother apparently kidnapped and held hostage for years, inflicting unimaginable cruelties as far as anyone knows

his first meeting with the kids happening when elrond broke into where they were holding maglor to scream at him in very loud very fast very angry sindarin for like half an hour

maglor just staring at him, eyes wide, ears pinned back, the whole time, and then trying to maul the first guard who mocked him for it

getting saddled with kinslayer containment duties in the aftermath of that whole incident

elrond punching him in the collarbone when he tried to apologise, shouting ‘you weren’t there, don’t you dare try to tell me what it was like’

elros’ visible half second of pure terror after the blow hit home

elros then using recognisable techniques from maitimo’s debate team circuit during a speech to the edain

like, clearly some shit did happen, but it’s obviously not what the local leadership’s afraid of

this sour-faced scar-covered warrior slipping out of the shadows in an unpopulated part of camp, kneeling before him, intoning ‘the swords of the host remain at your disposal my lord’ and then immediately vanishing

he didn’t recognise them until after they’d left but they were definitely one of his philosophy club friends, what even

just generally having woken up in a future a thousand times worse than his darkest nightmares

his natural instinct is to try and fix things, but how?? what’s even left to fix????

maglor sometimes goes into these unhinged desperate spiralling rambles directed at the older brother who exists in his head rather than the one in front of his eyes. whatever’s left of maitimo’s biggest little brother is clearly in so much pain

all the things he’s trying extremely hard not to think about because if he slows down enough to he’s pretty sure he’ll collapse

all the people he’s never met who hate him for pretty understandable reasons and whose social structure he now has to learn to have any hope of making it out of All This

the edain’s collective insistence on calling him pasthros

curufinwë isn’t even a hundred how does he have a kid

makalaurë, on the other hand, wakes up on a beach beneath a giant glowing orb. finding himself in a land so much barer than what he knows, among people whose souls don’t even work like his, his initial working theory is he’s been abducted by aliens

[lavellan-evelyn]

OC interview meme

Tagged by: @dirthara-mama thank you <3

And of course for my bb

After Trespasser

1. What is your name?

Evelyn Lavellan.

2. What is your real name?

It’s cause it’s a shem name isn’t it? Don’t worry, it’s Evelyn Lavellan still.

3. Do you know why you were called that?

Mother was a city elf and a human named Evelyn helped her escape and my ma was inspired so here I am.

4. Are you single or taken?

Very much taken. See this necklace? Half of a dragon’s tooth, The Iron Bull has the other half.

5. Have any abilities or powers?

I mean...I have the genetics to harness magic and I’m good at that so... Well, I’m a Dreamer as well, and can-used to close demon rifts. Also studied rift magic and that’s why the missing part of my arm looks like a translucent green hand.

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

Pal, I have a shit load of issues I have to deal with on the daily. Mental shit, physical shit, social shit. Do not even start with me.

7. What’s your eye color?

Pale forest green. Mother had green eyes, Father had heterochromia with one brown and one green.

8. How about your hair color?

Red with brown undertones. Sometimes it looks red red other times it looks brown, depends on the lighting.

9. Have you any family members?

Only child, Mother and Father got divorced cause my mom was emotionally abusive to me. She changed, though I’m still weary around her and happy she doesn’t push anything. I have chosen family from the Inquisition and my old Keeper. My father and I are really the only remaining Lavellans. We are a direct bloodline from Lavellan themself as well. Other than that, not much, but we’re close.

10. Oh? What about pets?

When I was little I had a pet rabbit and was best friends with a Halla. Now I have a pet dragon-well, she’s imprinted on me, I’m her mom. And I have a dracolisk that chose me as well.

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me something you don’t like.

The way you phrased that statement at the beginning is a good start. I have a long list, you have to be more specific. People who are ignorant and arrogant piss me off, so there.

12. Do you have any hobbies/actives you like doing?

Well they wouldn’t be a hobby if I hated it now would it? Yes, reading, writing, hanging off of things, instrument playing, singing, art as well.

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

Oh plenty. And I hate myself everyday for it. Each time I’m forced to kill someone I know that that person had a family and friends, maybe completely innocent to the situation. And they’re going to receive a letter that says their loved one died, and it’s hard. I feel like I’ve let people down multiple times due to being ignorant and naive. Yeah sure, saved the world the weight should be off my shoulders right? Nope. It lingers like fade pain. Haunted by so much. The fact that Thedas could still be destroyed because the Veil falls, doesn’t help matters much because now I feel like I did everything for nothing so...

14. Ever...killed anyone before?

Many. I always try to do it in self defense and only if the killing is necessary.

15. What kind of animal are you?

Watch it. And if you don’t know any better don’t ever ask that question to anyone, especially elves. Though, I feel like my familiar would be a fox or cat or OH, gargoyle cat if they only existed past sculptures.

16. Name your worst habits.

I’m oblivious. I cry a shit load, so I always seem over sensitive or over emotional when most of the time I’m not. Guess who’s never taken seriously? Um, I put others needs before my own, which might not sound too bad until you realize I cannot truly help another person until I know I’m fully able to by prioritizing myself first.

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

My father. And a few of my friends.

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

Pansexual.

19. Do you go to school?

Taught by my clan, first hand by the Keeper. Yes and no.

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

Marriage is important to help put who I am in stone. Like, another document that says I was an elf mage. And of course for legal reasons if Bull and I wanna do things economically speaking. But, I am infertile and have zero motherly type instincts. And no, caring for safety of others doesn’t guarantee that I have said instincts, just means I care.

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

Probably.

22. What are you most afraid of?

Abuse. And any of it’s synonyms and connotations. Being like my mother was.

23. What do you usually wear?

Clothes. Um, easy things to put on or take off. I stray from pants when I can. Hate those bastards.

24. Do you love someone?

I killed dragons in his name, yes I love someone. And platonically or family wise I also love others.

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

Diaper years.

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

Lovely.

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

High class now. I hate it. I try to give away all the money I can to charities and people who need it but for some reason I keep getting fucking paid and I want them to stop because I’m fine, it’s everyone else that needs the money.

28. How many friends do you have?

Around 15ish. But like, my closest best friend group is around three. Yes, I count Bull amongst them.

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

Fucking love it. Blueberry pie is my favorite and I can make it and ugh, i need one now.

30. Favorite drink?

Alcoholic wise, I prefer rum, but I actually don’t drink much and don’t really enjoy it all that much but I can tolerate a few rounds for fun. Bull is respectful of that. Otherwise, it’s a tie between apple juice and hot chocolate.

31. What’s your favorite place?

I have pillows in the corner of my room I snuggle in a lot and it’s my safe space kinda. But, I really enjoy Crestwood, I think the scenery can be beautiful.

32. Are you interested in someone?

...yes. The Iron Fucking Bull.

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

Um...small? Bull describes it as the size of medium oranges. Don’t ask how we got into that discussion because it was really a random topic that just came up.

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

Well, I really like how calm lakes can be. But I do feel a sort of calling towards the ocean. I think that’s because every few years or so, my clan would go to a coastal/island clan and exchange stuff and have fun. My father actually is half coastal and half Lavellan blood, so I have a bit in that in me. Though I’m like 200% sure because he has vitiligo and my ma had really sun sensitive skin, I can’t tan or be out in the sun very long even with protection.

35. Whats your type?

Intelligent, that does not equate to book smart by the way. Open mindedness, humorous, playful but can be serious in serious situations, kind, someone who can match my morals. Good chemistry.

36. Any fetishes?

Not by the true definition of one, no, but I have a shit load of kinks. That’s for another discussion if you wish. I’m not ashamed.

37. Seem or uke? Top or bottom? Dominant or submissive?

I’m a submissive brat about 90% of the time, sometimes I have a craving to be dominant, though, but I know Bull is extremely uncomfortable in truly submissive positions so we try and work things out, compromise.

38. Camping or indoors?

Both.

39. Are you waiting for the interview to end?

Yes.

40. Now it’s over!

Thank you.

Tagging: I’ve seen a lot of people do this recently so idk! If you see this and want to do it consider yourself tagged!

[thuashdore]

a super rough timeline that is here up until i write the detailed, nicer-looking timeline: warcraft edition

...because five expansions have passed since i wrote my original biography for beau, and people need to know what is going on.

my about section currently covers Vanilla WoW and The Burning Crusade. that’s the easy part out of the way. the following are events that have occurred that Beau has actively been involved in, in one way or another. brief descriptions only; the actual timeline (which is coming) will be a lot more detailed - mostly for those folks who are not in the Warcraft universe... but hey.

this is going to be a long read. you’ll probably see why it’s taking me a while to do the full version. the descriptions are, rightly so, memey. you’ve been warned.

there are also a few things in here that are purely explanation. again, for those who are NOT familiar with the Warcraft universe: i got you babe. <3

oh and for all of those who know Warcraft like the back of their hand: tl;dr the player character story line (paladin edition), but without faction-specific events. you’ll be surprised how many of those exist. <3

WRATH OF THE LICH KING - a.k.a. lets go kill the dead guy who made the undead guys and wants to end the world.

2nd scourge invasion and zombie infestation begins - Beau learns about the Argent Crusade (a happy group who all want to be friends together and forget about the red vs blue fight) and joins their ranks

Alliance + Horde (read: blue and red, respectively) declare war on the Lich King (glorified necromancer with a big sword), and all able-bodied individuals venture to Northrend (read: cold continent).

Naxxramas happens (tl;dr they kill a lot of dead people, including a cat and the Lich King’s best pal).

The Nexus War happens (tl;dr they kill a bunch of blue dragons - including the boss blue dragon) - Beau is involved largely due to her affiliations with the dragonflights; the Bronze in particular, though the Netherwing are involved too. 

The Halls of Stone and Lightning are found and unveiled. Ulduar happens soon after (uh... titan’s constructs think we’re bad. we punch them and they realise the tentacle guy underneath ulduar is the real bad guy. the world nearly ends, but through the power of friendship and good punching we stop that from happening. some red-haired mage gives a speech about it). 

THE CALL OF THE CRUSADE - including the Argent Tournament, the Trial of the Champion and the Trial of the Crusader/Grand Crusader (tl;dr the leader of the Argent Crusade - Tirion - thought it’d be good to decide who gets to go kill the Lich King by having us all fight each other, and whoever survived would go. a big bug was underneath us and we squished it). 

Assault on Icecrown Citadel - including the Forge of Souls (cool music btw), the Pit of Saron (go save Red + Blue people) and the Halls of Reflection (we found his big sword and he got angry at us so we had to run). Beau probably did this with Jaina... though I mean she wouldn’t say no to either her or Sylvanas asking. Jaina makes the most sense to me however. 

Icecrown Citadel (tl;dr it happens not long after the above and we go kill the Lich King and his friends and also his pet dragon... but he nearly kills us all first until Tirion takes our kill and Lich King’s dead dad resurrects us but in the good way).

Ruby Sanctum (tl;dr strange things happen with the dragons so we say we’ll take a look at it, and then...)

CATACLYSM - a.k.a. let’s go kill the angry black dragon who wants to end the world.

The Shattering / Elemental Unrest (the angry black dragon was cooking under the world for a long while and has now come out... so the world is on fire).

Beau spends most of her time with the Dragonflights again (given it directly involves them) and works on bringing peace to the elements... so involves going to the Throne of the Four Winds, Hyjal, Bastion of Twilight (and Blackwing Descent) and, of course, Firelands. One for each element (and also killing the bad dragons’ kids and wife!!).

The Hour of Twilight (read: the End of the World), which includes the End Time instance (basically “if you don’t stop bad dragon he’ll die anyway but so will everyone else so”) the Hour of Twilight (the Archbishop was the bad guy the whole time!!) and Dragon Soul (Green Orc Jesus gets the killing blow this time, but we do kill the bad dragon and a bunch of tentacle things - remember Ulduar? those, but Less).

MISTS OF PANDARIA - a.k.a. lets go meet the pandas who have been hiding for millenia and then kill the Orc who wants to end the world (but only for anyone that isn't an Orc just like him... JUST like him).

Lil Prequel here wow first time but Beau spends her time with the Dragonflights, who are now not immortal. I know I didn’t mention that before, but now it’s irrelevant - they’re not immortal now. Most people don’t get that. Or agree with it. But i’m just saying either way they’re Tired after the fight with their bad brother, immortal or not, so this is what she does for a bit.

Garrosh Hellscream, Big Orc Leader of the Horde, decides to bomb Theramore (cute city that did not deserve it). The first time that something like this has ever happened. Pretty much everyone is shocked except for the people who knew about it... which is a few people. Jaina Proudmoore (read: ruler of Theramore and someone you don’t want to piss off) is pissed off; very hurt and distraught by the destruction of her home. Red and Blue are at each other’s throats because of it.

Pandaria is discovered (read: the land covered in the mist?? yeah that one. it has pandas on it... and other things), and Beau travels there with, surprise, the Bronze Dragonflight.

Pandaria is a lot of Personal Growth for Beau, because of the Sha (read: bad emotions made manifest that feed off of people experiencing said negative emotions). she faces a lot of her innermost demons and is forced to conquer them in order to be able to properly help the people of Azeroth. there’ll be a big post on this someday, but for a good portion of the expansion she assists the Pandaren in dealing with the Sha presence.

Isle of Thunder is discovered, and the Throne of Thunder raid happens (tl;dr Lightning Man wants to rule the world; fails). Beau has limited involvement in the former (its primarily dominated by blood elves/reds and the Kirin Tor Offensive/blues), but is involved in the latter.

Then the Horde (specifically, the trolls - big boy troll leader Vol’jin) begins their revolution against their Warchief, Big Bad Orc Garrosh Hellscream. Beau assists with the rebels, as do the Alliance and most of the current Horde. Garrosh unleashes the Sha of Pride (read: worst one) and destroys the nicest place on Pandaria. Everyone is angry.

Siege of Orgrimmar (read: Horde capital city) happens - we kill Big Bad Garrosh’s friends but he somehow evades our kills, because player characters don’t get killing blows in this game until WoD. Vol’jin becomes the Warchief, and him and Varian (read: king of the blues) end the war! No more Alliance vs. Horde! For like two expansions!!!!

Garrosh is put on Trial... and escapes, with a Bronze Dragon (who’s actually an Infinite dragon... who are Bronze dragons that don’t agree with keeping to the destined timeways so they do what they like). they travel back in time, and we have to follow them.

WARLORDS OF DRAENOR - a.k.a. the expansion no one talks about... that ends with a bunch of guys wanting to end the world.

Prelude!!! Garrosh goes back in time, finds his dad, and they make a New Horde (the Iron Horde), and they make the current Dark Portal (read: big demon portal thing) bigger and more red, and plan to invade Azeroth! again! this has happened before!

Iron Horde invade Azeroth - we stop them, but also decide to go through the Portal to the ALTERNATIVE Draenor (read: it was this place called Outland... which is where we were in The Burning Crusade, but before Outland became Outland, it was Draenor. work with me please). 

Khadgar (uh... powerful mage; little eccentric; looks old but is actually like 10 yrs older than Beau but got made to look old bc of magic; Father of the Institute for Fallout fans - but nicer than Father is) thinks it’s a good idea to free Gul’dan (green warlock; bad; smelly) because he’s the guy powering the portal. We’ll regret that later, but right now it does stop the Iron Horde from invading Azeroth.

Beau, being a Neutral(tm), spends most of her time with Khadgar in his tower. Assists with liberating Shattrath (read: important light city), helps find and kill Garrosh (but Green Jesus Thrall actually kills him) and also participates in Highmaul (kill a bunch of ogres) and Blackrock Foundry (kill the orc making the weapons for the Iron Horde). Khadgar also starts making a ring of immense power, to give us an edge. He also kills us a few times - accidentally.

The Iron Horde crumbles after killing Blackhand (weapon orc we killed in the Foundry) and Gul’dan (here comes the regret) makes the remaining orcs drink the green goop that comes from a big demon (Garrosh wanted to stop this, but we killed him so...). the orcs turn green just like they are in reality, but now we have to fight Demon Orcs... oh, and Gul’dan summons Archimonde (big demon overlord who’s one of Sargeras’ - leader of the demons - best friends).

Surprise surprise, now we go and kill Archimonde and all of the other people who are now a part of the Burning Legion (Sargeras’ army of demons and other races... but mostly demons). We manage, but Gul’dan is transported to Azeroth by Archimonde and he finds Illidan (uh... there’s no easy way to explain Illidan so we’ll just say he’s a big winged elf-demon man, but a kind of okay one???), who’s trapped in a crystal. 

The end of Warlords is that we’re all friends, we have a cool powerful ring, and we’ve killed Archimonde - but... Gul’dan is free, has Illidan, and is going to summon all the demons to Azeroth.

LEGION - a.k.a. the demons, and Sargeras, really really want to end the world.

Prelude: I won’t lie, I honestly forget how we got back to Azeroth after traveling to an alternate timeline. Warlords was a fever dream to most people, but either way we did it... and when we get home there’s green fire everywhere and demons are upon every known orifice of Azeroth.

The whole of Azeroth fight the demons for a bit, because while there’s a lot it’s kind of like “mm, we can handle this actually”

The Battle for Broken Shore happens, and as it turns out we underestimated how many demons were here. Alliance and Horde thought a “small squadron” would suffice... but no. The Literal Entire Legion is here and MORE are coming. Tirion who got the killing blow on Lich King dies. Vol’jin Warchief of the Horde dies. Varian king of the blues dies. It’s a huge mess and everyone has to retreat.

Dalaran (read: a floating magic city) is moved from where it is now (Northrend, and then Karazhan - a tower... we’ll leave it at that) is moved to the Broken Shore and we declare war against the Legion.

Beau is chosen by Tirion to succeed him as Highlord of the Silver Hand (basically, she’s in charge of the paladins and makes sure they eat their vegetables before battle). She gets shiny weapons because of this, that grow in power the more you feed them... not literally, but figuratively. Don’t ask.

We find the Pillars of Creation (read: titan artifacts) to help us fight Sargeras, and along the way we also liberate an ancient city and also push back the Emerald Nightmare (read: uh... corruption of the world? its bad, alright, so we kill it). 

Oh, we also kill Gul’dan (and save Illidan!).

...but he’s already summoned his main hoe: Kil’jaeden (read: Archimonde’s best bro), so now we’ve got to go and defeat him too - preferably before he gets to Azeroth.

We take back the Broken Shore and infiltrate the Tomb of Sargeras (which is where the demons are coming from) and because we’ve got all the Pillars of Creation and the cool weapons we’re able to do it. Huzzah!

We do almost nearly die in space but Illidan uses a stone to teleport us to safety, however he also brings a demon-infested planet along with us.

We hate that at first, but Velen (read: the non-corrupted trio of the once Golden Trio: Archimonde, Kil’jaeden and Velen) decides we should end the Legion while we have the advantage, so makes us a little golden dingy spaceship to travel to the demon planet and... well, defeat and destroy the Legion.

We fight on Argus (read: the demon planet) for a long time and invade Antorus, the Burning Throne - the main operating hub for the Legion. We kill everyone there and fight a literal corrupt titan!! twice!! and then with the power of the non-corrupt titans, they’re able to bind Sargeras to his former seat on the pantheon (read: a literal stage with thrones on it, one for each Titan), which does end the reign of the Legion.

...Sargeras is pissed because he REALLY wanted Azeroth to die, so before he’s bound to his chair forever like a big baby he takes his flame sword and stabs Azeroth with it.

...oh this is also a good time to mention that Azeroth is actually alive and a Titan, but like... a not born one yet. Azeroth the planet is an egg for Azeroth, the titan. anyway.

We go back to Azeroth and the planet is bleeding, and Teams Red and Blue go crazy over whatever gunk is oozing out of the wound Sargeras’ sword has left behind. So they start fighting over it. Which brings us to...

BATTLE FOR AZEROTH - a.k.a. blizzard are telling us it’s a Red vs. Blue expansion when really it’ll end up being something like “the old gods want to end the world”.

this is where we are now. Red and Blue have a new leader on each side... and the whole Azerite (the name given to the gunk oozing out of the wound left by Sargeras’ flame sword) thing is pretty much causing each side to declare war. Beau, being neutral, is... worried, to say the least; she still doesn’t have a home of her own and being neutral during a faction war is... Difficult. she’s hoping her status as Highlord will help. her focus is mainly on providing aid to those who need it, and figuring out a way to mend Azeroth’s wounds and stop Her from getting too damaged.

...and that is all I can say, for now.

[taaroko]

Post-IW MCU Rewatch: Thor: The Dark World

Yay more Thor! (Yes I know this is widely considered to be the worst of the MCU movies and I DO NOT CARE. *hugs entire population of Asgard possessively*)

This prologue is ridiculous. I don’t know if it’s Anthony Hopkins’s inflection or if it’s just a step too far in the high fantasy direction, but it does make me cringe a bit. More showing, less telling! The prologues in the LotR movies were way more interesting than this.

The Dark Elf language also makes me cringe. I am very aware that it’s preposterous to assume that people from different planets speak English, but what’s most important to me is that actors cannot deliver nuanced performances when they are speaking gibberish. At least when it’s real languages, someone can coach them on inflection and stuff, but they really hamstrung Christopher Eccleston by making him say these silly-sounding lines.

Malekith has no imagination if the only thing he could think to do with the Reality Stone was turn stuff into dark matter.

“Benevolent god” indeed. Sending the Chitauri to slaughter people doesn’t really fit that description, sweetie.

Seriously Anthony Hopkins’s delivery is really weird in some places.

Odin is now three for three on children who showed scary genocidal tendencies, so I think there’s a lot of bitterness and feelings of failure behind what he says to Loki. Also Loki’s not showing any remorse at all, even though now would be a great time to explain that he was tortured and manipulated by Thanos. They’re both getting defensive and lashing out instead of engaging in meaningful communication.

Hi Sif! Hi Volstagg! HI THOR! He has such good entrances. Hi Fandral and Hogun! (Even if this is Zachary Levi Fandral with his stupid wig.)

The weapons the raiders are using are really interesting.

Hey I wonder if this Kronan knows Korg.

I love Thor’s smile when all the raiders laugh at his “I accept your surrender.”

*dreamy sigh* Asgard.

HUGIN AND MUNIN! And one actually lands on Odin’s arm! That’s awesome.

Odin ships Thor/Sif. (Me too, Odin.)

Obligatory shirtless Thor scene!

Volstagg and his family! *wibble*

Oh Sif. Rejected. (But Thor’s pretty nice about it.)

Jane is really quite socially awkward, isn’t she? Why did she go on this date?

It says something about how bad of a driver Jane is (hitting Thor, nearly driving off the road) that she would trust Darcy to drive her around (I guess Darcy’s record is slightly better, having only hit Thor once, while they were in the middle of a dust cloud).

“Why’re you calling me?” “I didn’t want to shout.”

Portals! Whee! (Honstly the portal shenanigans are one of the big reasons I love this movie. This crap is so much fun.)

I love the way Darcy wiggles her hand when she says “Gimme your shoe.”

Okay so the Dark Elves are set to wake up if the Aether gets activated? Headcanon time. Judging from all the creepy red lights in their ships, I think they used the Aether to make most of their tech, much like Schmidt did with the Tesseract. So yeah, if the Aether gets activated, their tech would react. That works.

Heimdall’s new armor has an orange stone in the breastplate. I thought he was gonna turn out to be the one who had the Soul Stone, and that it was the source of his infinite sight. ...I’m pretty sure I still like that better than what we ended up with in canon. Also, I only noticed this the other day, but Heimdall’s helmet is shaped the same as Hofund’s hilt, and that’s awesome.

Heee, I love Thor and Heimdall’s chat. I definitely believe that Thor would describe Heimdall as his best friend.

Whoops! Continuity error. Jane should not be in her Asgardian outfit yet. I guess they decided to move this bit to this part of the movie instead of later, but didn’t reshoot it.

Did Thor make this storm or is that just London being London? He does make it stop, I guess.

Sorry guys, Thor already has that dark strand of stuff in his hair; it’s not a Loki memorial braid.

Thor and Darcy’s interactions are always gold.

You sliced off part of that car!

Oh, question answered from before. You CAN see space rushing past from inside the Bifrost. Sweet.

Hi Eir! The Soul Forge is so cool.

Jane takes Odin’s rudeness pretty well. But dang, Odin. I know you ship Thor/Sif, but being mean to the competition is an elementary mistake.

That book is freaking awesome. It’s like the Book of Kells, except the images move and it’s in runes.

Dangit I don’t want the bad guys to be the ones who touch foreheads to show affection!

I really don’t like this look for Frigga. That one-boob breastplate is really weird.

The emotion in Loki’s scene with Frigga’s projection is so great. He wants to sever ties with Odin (or he thinks he does) but he can’t do that without severing ties with Frigga too, and you can see how much it hurts him to say anything that would hurt her. Which he plainly instantly regrets. And it’s the last thing he ever says to her.

Yessss more romantic exposition from Thor.

Hahaha, Jane is so much more shy around Frigga than Odin.

Man the way the Kursed dude kills people is really messed up.

Loki you would not be smiling at this dude if you knew he was going to do much more than cause a bit of mischief.

Thor jumping and grabbing Mjolnir is such a cool shot.

“It’s only because I’ve worried over you that you have survived.” Based on how Odin behaves as soon as she’s dead, that is extremely accurate.

Heimdall is so awesome. Oh, and I love the way the Dark Elves’ ships look almost like they’re made of dragon hide or something. Dragon hide or lava rock. Fantastic design. Fantastic movements.

This movie has so much more of Asgard in it than the first one, which is awesome. Even if it’s mostly getting pummeled by Dark Elves.

Those black hole grenades are freaking terrifying.

Yeah...if Loki hadn’t given that tip about the stairs to the left, the Kursed dude wouldn’t have arrived in time to help Malekith before Frigga finished him off, or before Thor and Odin arrived. :/

Frigga’s funeral is beautiful. The music, however, has been somewhat retroactively ruined by that play in Ragnarok. (Which I adore.)

Even if Loki doesn’t know how much his actions specifically contributed to Frigga’s death, I think he regrets helping the Kursed dude.

Hi Stan!

Dang, Asgardian law is crazy strict if Thor and the Warriors Three are casually talking about being killed by Einherjar if they screw up this plan.

This is so sad, because Loki actually doesn’t betray Thor at any point during this mission. He makes up for it by being incessantly irritating (which is the best stuff in the movie), but he sticks to the plan the whole time. The only one he betrays in this whole movie is Odin.

Okay the dagger/handcuffs trick by Thor is funny and all, but it really doesn’t hold up if you think about it. You’d definitely notice the difference between being handed a dagger and having thick cuffs put on.

Sif is very good at not letting her jealousy show too clearly. And her sword is awesome. Her and Volstagg’s threats to Loki are pretty great.

Peak annoying little brother stuff right here, when they’re in the Dark Elf blade ship. My favorite is “Oh dear. Is she dead?”

So Thor has the “face squashed against glass motif,” and I think Loki has a falling motif. Into the abyss in the first one, out of the ship in this one, and through whatever dimension Doctor Strange trapped him in in Ragnarok.

The flying longboats are so cool.

I love how much Loki likes it whenever Thor gets the better of him with sneakiness. He’s so used to Thor just smashing his way through stuff, so any subtlety he uses (especially when it’s successful against him) is fantastic in his book.

“Ta-dah.”

“What I could do with the power that flows through those veins.” I would love to see what Loki could do with the Aether. He’s already a master of illusions, and the Reality Stone would multiply that by about a thousand. It’d be awesome. And yet he sent it off to Knowhere instead of keeping it (or giving it to Thanos). Just like he kept the Tesseract safe in Asgard’s vault the entire time he was pretending to be Odin. If Loki had really done everything he did in Avengers of his own free will while in his right mind, he would not have gone to such lengths to keep multiple Infinity Stones away from Thanos. Heck, he might even have been the one to commission Stormbreaker from Eitri. I suppose he didn’t use the Stones himself because he knows as well as Thor does how deadly they can be to the wielder, or maybe he knew they’d draw Thanos to him like a beacon.

Thor thinks Loki wants to hurt him because he’s talking about Jane’s mortality, but Loki thinks Thor only cares about Jane and not the fact that their mother just died. They’re so bad at understanding each other.

The bittersweet smiles they exchange after “She wouldn’t want us to fight.”/“Well, she wouldn’t exactly be shocked.” are so painful to watch. They both desperately miss the days before any of this happened, when they were simply brothers, and I think they realize that about each other in this moment. But it’s not enough to fix everything, which is why Thor says “I wish I could trust you” and Loki says “Trust my rage.”

Ian is such a dope.

If a flock of starlings burst up through the ground at my feet like that, I would be scarred for life.

Thor’s plan is awesome. I totally fell for it in the theater. I thought Loki had double-crossed him and chopped his hand off, but they were working together the whole time. I kinda don’t think they let Jane in on it, though. Is the lack of blood on Thor’s arm stump a mistake or a hint that it’s a trick? *rewinds and squints* Ooh, no, it’s because the dagger has a glowy energy field on it! Insta-cauterization! Anyway, this would’ve been the perfect time for Loki to betray Thor for real if he’d wanted to, but he plays along. In part, I think, because he was so impressed with the plan.

Hey guys, even when Loki’s pretending to be a traitor, he doesn’t call himself Laufeyson. STOP CALLING HIM LAUFEYSON IN YOUR TAGS. Also his knife-fighting is awesome.

The Kursed dude’s eyeballs getting sucked out of their sockets was NOT a necessary detail to include.

“You fool, you didn’t listen!” What does Thor mean? What did Loki not listen to? Did Thor tell him that he was only supposed to protect Jane, not him?

Okay so I’m really not sure what the deal is with Loki’s fake death here. I have a couple different theories.

Theory 1: Loki really did get stabbed and really did believe he was dying. After Thor and Jane left to seek shelter from Thor’s uncontrollable grief storm, Loki reverted to his true form (because, dying) and that actually saved his life because Kursed blood isn’t as deadly to the Jotnar as it is to the Aesir, or his vital organs aren’t in the same place anymore, or something. So he was able to heal himself and take advantage of the situation.

Theory 2: Loki never intended to betray Thor, but he always intended to fake his death, both as a way of escaping prison and of avoiding Thanos’s retribution. So as soon as he finished off those four Dark Elves, he turned one of their corpses into a copy of himself and puppeteered it over to stab the Kursed dude and get theatrically killed. It would explain why the Loki who gets stabbed only has a Dark Elf sword and a black hole grenade on him.

I lean more towards theory 1 because I don’t really like the idea that Loki would trick Thor into thinking he was dead the day after their mother died, and also because when they filmed it, they actually meant for this to be Loki’s real death scene, and they only changed it later because test audiences didn’t believe Loki was dead. However, if I put aside my emotions, I have to admit that theory 2 makes more logical sense.

Would Malekith have found the Aether sooner if it hadn’t gotten into Jane? The movie implies pretty strongly that Malekith woke up because the Aether was out of its hiding place.

Mjolnir on the coat hook is such a great gag.

The elevator in Malekith’s ship looks like a spinal column, which is some fantastic design.

Thor’s battle trash talk is always delightful.

PORTAL SHENANIGANS. YESSSSSS.

Poor Mjolnir. It’s trying so hard to get back to Thor. I like to think that when it shatters the glass of that building on its way back up, it’s doing so in frustration.

Hi Jotunheim!

So apparently this isn’t remotely how you get to Greenwich from Charing Cross. Whoops. Maybe that girl was just really flustered at being addressed by Thor and gave him crap directions?

Jane really likes trying to throw herself between an unconscious Thor and a thing that she thinks might kill him.

POETRY. Malekith tried to destroy the Asgardian army by dropping his fleet on them. Now he gets killed by his own ship falling on him.

How’d Loki know about Thor’s line to Odin “There will never be a wiser king than you”?

“I can assure you, it will be absolutely safe here in my collection.” LIAR.

It’s so cool that Chris’s wife is the one who played Jane in the end credits scene. I’m not sure how they failed to do this kiss scene with Natalie in the first place, but whatever.

Every time Thor’s about to show up somewhere in this movie, there’s thunder. :D

Okay so the biggest problems with Thor: The Dark World are that Malekith is the dullest villain in the entire MCU and that Thor kinda doesn’t have a character arc. In a movie where half of his family dies (as far as he knows). How is that even possible? Despite the beautiful funeral, Frigga’s death was really kind of glossed over, and then Loki seemingly dies too, but even though those are very powerful scenes while we’re in them, they don’t leave much of an impact on the rest of the movie. You don’t really feel those losses in the way Thor fights Malekith. Thor should’ve been struggling to stick to the plan instead of just whaling on Malekith blindly with Mjolnir. He should’ve had some breakdown with Jane there to witness it and comfort him. Instead he’s the one comforting Jane when she blames herself for all the loss he’s suffered? No no no. He should’ve either been very emotional, very bent on revenge, or smiling and joking through the pain like he does in Ragnarok and Infinity War. This stoicism is not effective, and it probably contributes to so many people’s (mistaken) belief that, prior to Ragnarok, Thor was a boring character. And Malekith’s side of the battle would’ve been better if it had been personal for him too. He could’ve been more upset at the death of his buddy Algrim, or maybe he had family members who were killed by Bor, which is why he’s so keen on killing members of Asgard’s royal family now. It would’ve been so easy to make this an emotionally intense fight. Instead, it’s merely fun because portal shenanigans. *shrug*

Despite not having much of an arc, Thor is still wonderful. He’s funny, he’s more thoughtful and wise than he’s ever been, he’s gallant, he’s romantic, and he’s getting better and better at working as part of a team and finding solutions besides smashing stuff. Also he makes the best entrances, has awesome armor, and is mesmerizing to watch in battle. I adore him.

Other stuff this movie has going for it. So much more Asgard screentime, even if they cut a few scenes I wish they’d left in. The music is still great. Everything looks gorgeous, and the Dark Elves at least have interesting technology and costumes. No Dutch angles. Plenty of screentime for Heimdall. Every single second of Thor and Loki’s scenes together, being obnoxious bros to each other but still working as a very effective team (heralding all the excellent contentious Brodinson stuff to come in Ragnarok).

[doodlingadventures]

About the C.Golden Novel

I’ve got 4 anons in the inbox asking me the same thing, “Do you think that something will happen in Before the Storm that will make Sylvanas’s actions more justified?” And... well, here are my thoughts

(if they’re al the same person, yeah, I got your message, but I need time to answer my friend xD)

#BFAspoilers

Ok, so first of all, something must have happened; In the recent scenarios, night elves are supposed to be sending a good chunk of their troops towards Silithus, to the point where Darnassus and Ashenvale’s only defense is Malfurion. Although the only big events that Blizzard is giving us are the Burning of Teldrassil and the Siege of Lordaeron, some big events that happen in the novels are never referenced in game (Garrosh’s trial, for one). 

Anyway, my point, whatever happens, can’t be caused by the Horde. Not to justify Sylvanas’s actions, because, let’s be honest, she doesn’t need it. Whatever happens must justify the other Leaders of the Horde supporting her.

For one, Blizzard needs to convince us that Baine, an outspoken pacifist, someone that considers himself a friend to Anduin, someone that spoke up against Garrosh while he was doing this exact same shit, leader of a culture centered around the worship of a nature Goddes and pretty pacifists in general, and advised by a fucking Archdruid of the Cenarion Circle (Hamuul Runetotem, if you’re wondering) is not only going to be ok with these attacks, but is also going to actively collaborate. (And be ok with blightspreading, but that’s for another post, because thats a lot to adress, and include all the races)

Then, they have to give us a justified reason as to why would the Blood elves be willing to leave the Eastern Kingdoms for an All Horde Kalimdor, as Sylvanas wants. Because... What about the Sunwell? Do you really think that the Sin'dorei are going to leave their city, their fountain of Light that literally keeps them alive and sane, behind, so the Alliance has it? After all they fought to purify it, and Lor’themar had to kick out Alleria and the Void elves for the fear they had of it being corrupted? And we don’t even know if the Sunwell can be transported. We are talking about the purified heart of a Naaru mixed with Arcane energy and water resting/contained in a platform... I don’t know for sure if it can be moved or transported, but if the Elves could have done so during Arthas’s attack, they probably would have…. so I doubt the Sunwell is going anywhere.

Then, they have to convince us about the Darkspears. That one may seem simple, since Vol’jin was the one that wouldn’t have favoured war, and he is no longer amongst us, but, the current leader seems to be Rokhan, and he is of the same line of thinking as Vol’jin (in fact, on the recently datamined text about the Shalayn, “Sylvanas wants ta give 'em a chance. Dey got no home left. If dey can work with us, den dey got a home with da Horde. If not, dey be gone.” His attitude is very in character, considering he is from the “warcraft III to WoTLK Horde” way of thinking. He is also always described as a sweetheart, I’m kinda quoting Thrall). If you want to argue that Rokhan is not the leader of the Darkspear and that another member is, the only options left are Master Gadrin (whom, in all honestly, is more like one of the elders of the tribe and guides the youngsters, I have yet to see help in decission making or war planning or... away from Sen’jin village), or Zen’tabra, another Druid of the Cenarion Circle, and Vanira, a Shaman and member of the Guardians of Hyjal.

If you’re thinking about that Troll that appeared in the Horde end-of-Legion cinematic, her name is Bwemba and she is an emissary.

(all of these characters I’ve ust mentioned have models for 8.0.1, so one way or another, they’ll be making an appearence. Maybe even clear a bit of the confussion with the Darkspear leadership?)

And despite everything, if there is one thing that the Darkspears are never, ever, EVER going to be ok with, is raising someone into undeath. First, because of their beliefs and hinted relationship with the Loa of death, making undead triple the heresy for them, and second, because of what motherfucking Zalazane did to them ( and no one dare say he has no relevance anymore, he is making another appearence at BFA, and the shit he pulled cannot be forgotten so easily).

Maybe in a microcosmos where this is just another tribe of trolls, they wouldn’t have problem in attacking the Night elves, but they’re not just “another tribe of trolls” and this characters are not warmongers.

The huojin... I doubt that they would be willing participants. Pandaren are not known for their streaks of cruelty or interest in war. Yeah, the Huojin are kind of the “aggressive side”, but nowhere near the level of this. They’re a wild card, so let’s leave them at a “?”.

Then, we have the Orcs. Some must be already thinking that of fucking course the Orcs would be in favor of a war, but again, context. Saurfang and Eitrigg are on the hardcore side of Honor, and the Orcs that survived the Siege of Orgrimmar were against Garrosh’s methods, tactics and phylosophy. There are still those who don’t like the Alliance, obviously, and will fight if it means survival for their people (technically that’s the whole issue with Ashenvale since classic) but that is one thing, and what the novellas and scenarios are showing us is very different. And to go backwards on this characterization for no reason is... bad writting. Also, Saurfang starts the book with a “warning” for Sylvanas, and in Ashenvale he is supporting her so... SOMETHING must have happened that changes his mind, even if in the end he can’t take it anymore. And it is in character. Rembember that this guy has been in here since the begining, and he saw what the Horde had to do to survive once the Draenei were all “dead” and the resources started to scarce in Draenor. He more than likely doesn’t want to go through that again, even if hopefully it’s not what we’re going to do.

Then we have the Forsaken. I’m not going to get into how each person writes their forsaken characters, but let’s have a soft agreement that most of them would do anything Sylvanas says, because the ones that disagreed already left her comand (there are a few, examples, but I’m pretty sure we are all thinking about that NPC in the plaguelands, so let’s leave it at that). Although I would think none of them are too happy to be leaving Lordaeron (which, yes, I’m aware of the question, why is Sylvanas so fiercely defending the Undercity if she plans on moving the whole of the Horde to Kalimdor? No idea. I’d say she plans on killing the maximum number Alliance possible, and leaving the city unhabitable? But then we are fighting to get hold on some Eastern Kingdoms areas so... I have not enough data to answer that properly)

The Goblins.... to which, yes, there are exceptions, but if they’re under Gallywix’s orders and there’s profit, they’ll collaborate.

About the Allied races... I don’t want to go much into it, but if something happens that convinces the Tauren and Blood elves respectively, then the Nightborne and the Highmountain would be convinced too. Let’s leave it at that for now.

What kind of event must happen to fulfill this? Well, I’m not so sure. It isn’t about making the Alliance out of character either. It could  be that the Alliance tests the Azerite and it’s much more powerfull than what they expected, so they destroy a Horde settlement

(I highly doubt it, because the synopsis of the book keeps painting sylvanas as the aggressor, but still, for the sake of speculating

) because there were too many Horde troops there, or by accident because they only wanted to scare them off, or, something. Or it doesn’t have to involve explossions; maybe specific characters make threats about recovering Lordaeron, or Quel’thalas, or to purge the Horde from the Eastern Kingdoms with the power of the Azerite, which makes Sylvanas go “

fine, then we all stay in Kalimdor, so fuck you

”, and the others leaders agree...?

I can’t tell you what happens because I don’t work at blizzard, but the point is that something is happening, and whatever it is, it should serve to “”justifie”” (as in, make the characters react accordingly) the actions taken by the Horde. Otherwise it is not only out of character, but also bad writting, especially if Blizzard wants to push that narrative of “After the big baddie is defeated, a war starts because we are our worst enemies” that they’re apparently so happy with, and then put one of the two factions as the clear bad guy, just to forgive everything when a bigger baddie appears, AGAIN. Like they fucking did with Grommash.

This is what I think. Hope the answer satisfies you anons!