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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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β
I'd rather be in outer space πΈ
Claire Keane
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@drdw0lf
" You know him as Fen'harel- The Dreadwolf- but I once called him by another name... FRIEND . "
Lev's non- selective SOLAS from DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION / THE VEILGUARD
NOT SPOILER FREE !
playlist | edits
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@oakthcrn from here
Solas's expression is one of pain. He knew it would end like this yet he had still hoped that she would give up. He's tired, the battle with Elgar'nan's arch demon has left him injured. The weight of what he must do so heavy on his shoulders whatever joy he could have found in the death of his enemy pales in comparison.
" You know you can't win from me . " It is not a threat, simply the truth. His words sound almost compassionate. Manipulative to the end. " It is this world , this abomination that I created that convinced me of my course . That has kept me on it again and again . You think I wanted to see the world burn ? I am simply doing what is necessary so it may rise from its own ashes . " He speaks louder than before. sounding desperate. He knows there is no use trying to convince her. It is himself that he needs to keep on track. He is so close to making all his mistakes worth something. This is for his people, for Mythal.
" I don't want to kill you . Please don't make me . " He adds, his tone softer than before.
@drdw0lf || LIKED for a SPOTIFY STARTER || Still Accepting || SONG: Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again - The Phantom of the Opera
Distorted and distant, the haunting chime of a church bell reaches elongated ears but it's source had long fractured and fallen within the bell tower. In what could only be described as ruins, the building that had been once used for some variety of worship now stood entirely forgotten - plaster crumbling away from stone, paintings and scriptures left damp and ruined within, the joy of celebration and the pain of mourning no longer present. 'T was simply still.
The veil was thin there, akin to wet tissue paper over a crevasse. Eyes long haunted by the sights of the other side caught glimpses betwixt headstones and sculpted angels alike - silhouettes of no identity walking and fading out in the expanse of a blink.
The Watch had sent him there after varied yet repetitive reports of a haunting, and though the priest was acutely aware of a stronger presence than the other, more natural ones, he had yet to identify it. Pathways through the cemetery were long overgrown, headstones lost betwixt tall grasses and twisting weeds but he did his utmost to step through, regardless - the long stature of determined legs aiding in his endeavours.
'T was at the easternmost point of the cemetery that Atris finally takes pause, the very feeling of the cold air different there. An uneasiness settled within the nerves lining his spine, a weight metaphorically resting 'pon shoulders; a glimpse of something catching his colourless gaze after but a moment.
How curious it was, to have seen someone walk past within the reflection of a broken mirror attached to a grand stature of an angel, and yet the long deserted and unmaintained cemetery in the middle of nowhere had no other visitors aside from the priest himself. He's quiet, cautious as he paces - stepping closer to take a better look and there, once more, does he glimpse another.
"... Who are you-?" He's stood some way back from the mirror, no trace of the other broken fragments to be found, but it matters not. His eyes remain fixated on what he could see, wondering if it was some variety of relic, if his eyes were bidding he see more than the usual, or if some kind of magic was involved. "You aren't here in the mortal plane, that I know."
Since his return to the Veil, his very life force acting as the barrier he once vowed to tear down, Solas's life has gotten very quiet. It almost reminds him of those early days after his awakening. Days mostly spent dreaming, exploring the fade. Time spent in the waking world only to find new places to dream in.
He no longer needs to dream to cross to the other side. It is his living reality now. The veil, not quite the fade, but closer than the physical world. He can only catch glimpses of it by finding places where the veil is thin.
He had been exploring the veil's side of the ancient temple for a while now- he has no clue just how long he's been here, or even how long it's been since he was trapped. Time works different here. He knows better than to presume.
He had been meditating when he had sensed the presence of the necromancer close in. It wasn't the first being he had caught glimpses of from the other side. Usually faint and barely identifiable, through the pieces of broken glass he is strangely corporeal. If Solas didn't know any better he might think he could touch the other elf.
The sight of Mythal's vallaslin has his heart skipping a beat. Where were the days when he would remove hundreds of those very same markings from the faces of elvhen slaves? He still remembers the despair and helplessness he felt when he discovered the Dalish's appropriation of them.
His melancholic thoughts are interrupted when the other speaks up. Solas blinks in surprise. The glimpses have never seen him in return before. He gathers his wits before responding. He can't be sure that the Mourn Watch elf can actually hear him, but he keeps his voice neutral just in case. " You are correct . " He says. His hands come to rest behind his back. " I am of the veil . " He spares a glance down at the elf's outfit. " One so experienced with spirits must have a theory , no ? Indulge me . " He says, unwilling to offer information up freely. He is deeply aware of the stories the Dalish tell of the Dread Wolf. Though his fight with Elgar'nan might have won him favors in Minrathous during the Evanuris's final hour, he doubts that spread as far as Nevarra.
Cole was silent, aside from a soft hum, as he contemplated Solas' words.
"You answered my question with another question," he started, his tone sounding suspiciously accusatory and maybe just a bit in the nature of complaining, contrasting heavily to his usual passive nature in these conversations.
"Like looking at yourself in the reflection of the water, or the reflection of a blade. You can't see the parts that they can see in you, but they can't see the parts in you that only you can see, either. So..."
Fade-touched eyes remained locked onto the other, his head tilting a bit to the side.
"You are you. You should be able to decide, but there's something..."
The blond frowned, shaking his head slowly in both confusion and vague disapproval.
"There's something in the way."
There is nothing about Cole's words that he disagrees with. He has been so many things, none of which still have a place in this nightmare his companions call reality. If he were a different man not plagued by the guilt of his actions, by what he knows he will have to do, he might allow himself to be remade. To leave the past behind and become something new that does belong. But he can't do that.
" I apologise . I fear you will not find a satisfactory answer to your inquiry . " He says. The words are genuine, if plagued by his usual distance. He feels more of a kinship to Cole than even the modern elven people. He himself was once a spirit, long long ago, and has longed to return from the moment he was given a physical body. Cole might once the veil is torn. There is no way to know for certain. Either way, he is glad to have met him.
" If it is any consolation ; 'Solas' has always been the name used by those closest to me . " He says. This is also the truth. Solas was the first name he was given as a spirit of wisdom. Ironic perhaps, given its meaning in the Elvhen tongue. " What about you ? Cole was the name of your physical body , have you ever considered picking something else ? "
" why're ya bald. "
( onlylmd )
@onlylmd
" Why do you talk like that . "
@dionadaiir from here
" Well , yes . I doubt the Orlesian humans would have appreciated ' the Inquisitor's elven servant ' taking to the ballroom floor . " Solas retorts. Despite the discrimination his kind faces by these people, Solas thoroughly enjoyed the ball. Though he kept out of the way as to not sabotage their mission, he hadn't been dressed nor carried himself like the Orlesian nobles had expected. Their obvious confusion at how to classify him had been more than enough entertainment.
On a more personal level, the event reminded him of happier times in his own youth. Ones he won't voice out loud. It was refreshing to see despite how many things have changed, some things haven't. Nobles tripping over themselves trying to impress each other is timeless, it seems.
" Besides , I believe you were doing enough peacocking for the both of us . I'm surprised none of them offered you a position as a bard . " He adds half jokingly.
Despite the clearance to ask, Cole still hesitated, the brim of his hat hiding the majority of his face as they continued along. The silence was loud, birds chirping crisply in the distance and insects thrumming.
It felt like something that probably should have been an inside thought, inside thought being the phrase that Varric had taught him about things that should probably stay internalized instead of spoken out loud, things that could sometimes hurt more than help.
Still yet, it dangled on the edge of his tongue, daunting but driven, and maybe just a bit dangerous.
"You carry.... so many names," he started slowly, sounding a bit unsure, just loud enough to barely be heard above the ambience of nature around them. "The shape of them all is confusing to me. Which one do you think feels the most like you?"
It doesn't come as a surprise to him that Cole has figured out these things. There is little anyone could hide from a spirit of compassion, after all. As such, there is no surprise or anger in his expression at the question. He does glance over at their other companions. Neither of which seem to be paying attention to their conversation, to Solas's relief.
He hums in thought. No one has ever asked him that question before. All the monikers he has been given, mockingly by Elgar'nan, revered by the slaves he freed or with retroactive fear as per the Dalish historians, he never felt like he had much of a say in his own image. Even now, he is more often referred to as the 'elven apostate' than by his actual name. He can only imagine how little people call him Solas behind his back.
" Let me ask you in return , Cole . What do you think defines us more ; how we view ourselves or what others insist we are ? " He asks. " And if those two lie in opposition , does it even matter what we believe is our true self if no one else agrees ? "
passed down like folk songs ;;
status: open to anyone
Cole didnβt necessarily mean to stare.
He didnβt mean to be rude, or unsettling, though sometimes he came off as both all at once. Now, though, as he stared at the back of his companionβs head as he walked behind them, steps quiet as ever in the lush green grass of the landscape around them, he inhaled softly to speak before suddenly changing his mind and falling silent.
He wanted desperately to ask a question, but maybe it would be less unnerving with a⦠peace offering of sorts.
The former spirit reached down, carefully plucking one of the forget-me-nots from the ground, apologizing in his head for more or less ending its life before catching up to his companion and holding it out with a small smile.
βCan I ask you something?β
Through his dreams in the fade, Solas has grown used to, even come to enjoy the quirks of the spirits that inhabit it. Cole has always been an odd one even compared to his own kind. In truth, his presence has brought comfort to Solas. Besides not being the only one with a strong connection to the Fade anymore, the boy reminds him of happier times. Ancient, long forgotten ones.
He has felt Cole's attention on him for the better part of the last hour. Many spirits have a strong sense of curiosity, it wouldn't have been the first time one of them has spend a good while seizing him up before approaching him.
When he finally does, Solas pretends like he hasn't been patiently waiting for him to do so and graciously accepts the small flower. " Thank you , Cole . " He says with a small nod of acknowledgement. " Ask away . "
Bona wrinkled her nose in tease back to him, angling herself so she was more hidden by the thick velvet of a curtain but still in his sight. Many of the lords ad ladies had swept around her to get a glimpse of the Avvar woman, and her had heard a few whispers about her being a barbarian. It was taking the calming pressure of her old teacher inside her to keep from lighting someone one fire
"I know enough to say we are not wearing it. Not enough soft silk and lace." At least they weren't wearing wool, it was crowded enough to overheat them. "Leliana wanted to dress me differently, play into the Avvar nature. Until I told her that would be leathers on the bottom and body paint on the top."
Both advisors quickly veoted the idea and Josephine badgered her into wearing the same uniform as the others For all the good it did, the Orleasians were clearly undressing her with their eyes to the point she may as well have dressed in her paints.
At his compliment she stuck out her tongue for a moment. "The only comfortable thing is my hair. I'll have to get Josephine to teach me how to braid it like this again."
Solas's expertise is magic and the Fade. He was more than happy to let those more qualified in the game take charge of this mission. In fact, he has been enjoying watching the ruckus their odd crew has been creating from a distance. It reminds him of happier times within the Evanuris.
While in another time, such a childish response might have annoyed him. Now he just chuckles. " I have witnessed memories of such events like these in the Fade many times . My people of old used to dress in flowing robes or golden armor . " He explains, his expression far off, as if he is seeing it in front of him now. " It was a sight to behold . " He sighs wistfully. The elven people of today are often little more than servants. They couldn't imagine the granduer of old. " These humans can't help mistreating what they are not familiar with . It is a tale as old as time . "
" It's simply in their nature . "
γ ππ πππππππ πππππππππ ππ πππ π ππππ ππππ πππ πππ ππππππππππ πππππ ππππππ ππ ππππππ πππππππ πππ ππππππ ππππππππ ππ π πππππ πππ ππππππππππ ππππππππ ππ πππ ππππππ ππππππππ ππ ππππ ππππ π ππππππππ πππππ. nature thrives all around her, as if the noxious hand of men had never before reached this sanctuary ; the trees, hundreds of years old judging from the gentle whispers that now resound against her ears, comfortably outstretch their wooden limbs above her head whilst their gargantuan roots are tangled together into knots 'pon the woodland's floor. a woodland's floor made of pliable moss and dry leaves, fallen branches and wildflowers in bloom, half - chewed bones. it matters not how attentive her gaze is, ahri knows that she will never be capable of capturing every detail of such a bewitching place β¬β¬ a place of magic, a place of myths, not unlike the tirashan forest that gave birth to her and her flowers.
this is, however, not an intimate moment of worship. someone else stands beside her, draped in a silence that may only be described as contemplative. what does this shrine mean for him, for his heart ? her awe wilts, in its former lieu her curiosity blossoms. β your eyes ... β a murmur, spoken betwixt the flapping of wings overhead. she hesitates for but a moment ; when the mage does speak once more, it is with the shameless curiosity of a vain rose. β i don't think i have ever seen such an expression on your face before. what does this place mean, for you ? β
β Β°γβ β§βΛ βΒ°γ γγγπ¬πππ«πππ« πππ₯π₯ γγ, γγ @drdw0lfγγβΏοΉ γsolas . β³ γ γat the foot of a massive, venerated shrine, one that's been forgotten by time and worn down with age .
When he was young, Solas had only considered in fleeting moments of contemplation how history would remember him. Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, a mocking nickname Elgar'nan had given him that he had adopted as his own. He couldn't have known that is all he would be remembered as.
Usually, he doesn't let the tales the Dalish elves of today tell get to him. To him they are like children grasping in the dark. Occasionally stumbling upon a shred of truth purely by accident. They are nothing to him but inferior versions of the Elvhen people of old he knew.
But he was drawn to this forest. After he split the physical world with the spiritual one, he has only been able to visit it in his dreams. The Veil somehow feels thinner here. Magic more abundant. Perhaps this is why the Dalish chose this place for a shrine to Fen'Harel. The wolf statue that forms it's center piece sat down on a stone pedestal. It's head raised proudly. Something about the placement hit him more than these usually do. Despite the statue looking nothing like his wolf form.
He had caught glimpses of the fox nymph before during his travels through this forest. He has met enough creatures like her to know it is best to keep a respectful distance. It doesn't surprise him that she would choose to approach him. In a way he is grateful for the interruption to his melancholy musings.
" The Dalish built these shrines to ward off demons . Believing they would fear the wrath of the Dread Wolf . " He explains, not really answering her question at all. Only then does he turn his head to look at her. " It's a silly belief . Demons are spirits pulled into this world and twisted against their purpose . Even if they were to have feared the Dread Wolf once , they will not have the wits to remember this after their transformation . " He continues, then fully turns to her.
" I apologise if this is your forest , I should have announced myself . "
@rookedcrow said: you just love bringing that back up to annoy me.
The hint of a smile crosses Solas' face. It is true that his words have been full of petty jabs towards her. " They are your actions , Rook . Perhaps if you don't like being reminded of them you should learn to think before acting . " He says. Case and point.
At least while trapped here, verbal abuse is all he can do to fight back. " If allying yourself with the dreaded Fen'Harel is too much for you , you should have considered that before you released Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain and caused my imprisonment . However , because of you , this is how it must be . "
" We both know my council is our only hope at defeating them . "
// been thinking Solas Mythal thoughts today //
WHAT DO YOU MEAN ? a collection of various questions that can be asked. feel free to change around anything that needs to be !!
" what do you mean ? "
" oh, so now you can tell me ? "
" are you asleep ? "
" do you hate me or something ? "
" can i help you with that ? "
" is that blood ? "
" where did you find this ? "
" do you remember how it used to be ? "
" do you miss me ? "
" can you turn out the light ? "
" did you have a nightmare ? "
" will i always be second best ? "
" why do you love me ? "
" did you apologize ? "
" do you want more rest ? "
" are you okay ? "
" are you going to finish that ? "
" where are you going ? "
" is that smoke ? "
" didn't you quit drinking ? "
" does your mother know ? "
" are we going to be parents ? "
" how do i look ? "
" can i hold you ? "
" is that a puppy ? "
" can i kiss you ? "
" where did that scar come from ? "
" can you hear my voice ? "
" will you shut up for a second ? "
" are you satisfied ? "
" where are you ? "
" where the hell did you go ? "
" why do i smell smoke ? "
" did you try to make me dinner ? "
" will you go out with me ? "
" will you go on a date with me ? "
" will you marry me ? "
" could you please kiss me goodnight ? "
" are you kidding me right now ? "
" did you shut the door on your way out ? "
" can you see me ? "
" did you get a picture of it ? "
High Approval Solas vs. Low Approval Solas
Solas' nearness pulls her focus from the documents spread across the table, but her neutral expression quickly crumples up in distaste, nose wrinkling and eyes once more flaring with a temper known only to those who have forgone sleep too many nights in a row. "Dreaming can also be dangerous," she says, tightly, like she's forcing the words through her teeth. He isn't the first of her companions to try reasoning with her tonight.
If Isamaya is one thing, it's relentless.
Still, there's something about Solas coming to do it that makes her huff and push away from the table, conceding defeat. She imagines the next step is dragging her out and locking her in her chambers until sunrise, anyway.
"Alright," the mage mutters, rising to her feet. "I'll rest after I eat something. I imagine you're going to stick around to ensure I'm not lying?"
A lighthearted smile remains on his face. " Why , Inquisitor , one would almost believe you don't enjoy my company . " Solas hadn't been the only one on their team to notice their leader's exhaustion. He doubts he was the first to approach her about it, either. Though he wouldn't put it past them to just whisper about it amongst themselves, come up with some overcomplicated scheme instead of talking about it like adults. He takes it as a compliment that she agrees to rest because he asked.
" I can leave you to it , if that is what you wish . My proficiency with dreamwalking makes it no hassle to know when those around me are dreaming . But if you can welcome the company , I have yet to eat something as well . " He's not bluffing, he feels more comfortable with dreams than he does the waking world. Reading them, manipulating them, walking alongside them, it's as easy as breathing to him. " I can help you with those 'dangerous' dreams while we are at it , if you want to . "
#REBE1ROOK
" I don't care what they call me . If they're calling me anything it means they're still alive . That's all that matters . "
Lev's non-selective Nephilia 'Rook' Mercar. A shadow dragons rogue Rook from DRAGON AGE: THE VEILGUARD
playlist
rules / info under the cut
