Lay(a) - she/her - 20s - main: @Layalu - - absolutely self-indulgent DA sideblog for all my DA Brainrot needs. Expect lots of OC content (both mine and pals'), memes, art, meta, all that good stuff~ -- not spoiler-free!
This is my absolutely self-indulgent DA sideblog for all my DA Brainrot needs👍 Expect lots of OC content (both mine and pals'), memes, art, meta, all that good stuff~
I am awful at keeping up convos but please always feel free to shoot me asks or dms if you ever have questions or just wanna chat! :)
I try to keep tags at least somewhat consistent but if i miss something important gimme a shout!
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tag quick links + OC summary
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personal tags:
#lay ocs
#lay art
#off-topic for non-DA stuff (like some tag games etc.)
#lay rambles, laya plays dragon age, lay answers for misc textposts
group tags for the companions of each game are, respectively
blight gang
awakening squad
kirkwall crew
inner circle
veil guard (subject to change lol)
+ one alt. timeline for Liam that isn't connected to any world state yet
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Short summaries for all of them under the cut ~
Neira Surana (she/her)
Elven Mage, Spirit Healer (and Arcane Warrior)
annulls the tower (that was a big oopsie)
saves Connor; Isolde dies
kills the Werewolves (also oopsie)
destroys the Anvil
Harrowmont rules (kinda just happened)
Alistair completes the ritual
Alistair rules alone (you get the picture)
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Kalagna "Kala" Brosca (she/her)
Dwarven two-handed Warrior, Champion
saves the Mages
kills Connor
brokers peace between elves & werewolves
destroys the Anvil
Bhelen rules
Alistair completes the ritual (she doesn't know about it tho)
Anora rules alone (Loghain duelled & killed by Alistair)
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Noya Tabris (she/they) & Var'Renan Mahariel (any)
Noya: Dual weapon Warrior, Berserker and Champion
Var'Renan: Archer Rogue, Ranger
Mages saved
Connor saved with help of mages (Isolde lives)
werewolves killed
Bhelen rules, Anvil destroyed
ritual not completed
Anora rules alone (Loghain killed by Noya)
Renan dies killing the Archdemon
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Liam Hawke (he/him)
Human dual dagger Rogue, no specialisation
primarily purple but blue flavoured
Bethany dies in the Deep Roads
kills the Arishok (no duel)
sides with the Mages
spares Anders
note: he's got two separate timelines that split somewhere between Act 2 & 3 (because i am weak and want him to be happy);
doesn't get back with Fenris, doesn't find Charade, stays in Fade
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gets back together, finds Charade/reconciles with Gamlen, doesn't stay in Fade (this is also the timeline where they adopt Adriel! :] )
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Lilian Hawke (she/her)
Human Mage, Force & Blood Mage (& sort-of arcane warrior)
primarily red but in a blue/purple way
Carver conscripted to Wardens
duels the Arishok
sides with the Mages
executes Anders
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June Trevelyan (she/her)
Human Mage, Rift & Inferno mage
Allies with Mages
Exiles Grey Wardens
Warden (Stroud) stays in Fade
Celene rules alone
Morrigan drinks from WoS
Maintains Inquisition (100% a spite reaction; does not stay leader; still helps out as a scout & researcher)
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Ari Adaar (he/him)
Qunari/Vashoth archer Rogue, Artificer
Conscripts Mages
Conscripts Wardens
Hawke (Liam) stays in Fade
Blackmailed Peace
Drinks from WoS (he has regrets tm)
Maintains Inquisition to stop Solas (& research about WoS/Mythal)
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And!! Taren Mahariel (he/him), mage (?) Exists in theory but has yet to be played! same for the newest crew member: Robin Hawke (they/them), warrior! Have done barely anything with them yet but they are Here
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Adriel (she/her)
My fenhawke kid who I created solely for self-indulgent family fluff and who only exists in Liam's alt. timeline, but I accidentally got attached....
Liam and Fenris find her and take care of her while on the run and a some point realise that They Are Now Dads. Addie's a spunky little rascal can and will cause mayhem, but she means well -- most of the time, anyway. A mage who trains as a knight enchanter, studies Magic and Elven lore under Merrill, and wants to be a pirate when she's grown up (totally not Bela's influence).
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Viddathlat (he/she/they) & Sataareth (he/she)
Ari's parents! Vidda is an interpreter/translator and huge linguistics nerds, and Sataa's former Antaam soldier and current maker of the best kanji in southern Theda. Ex qunari and current mercs/tamassrans. They don't have proper backstory or anything yet but they Exists :) (they go in Ari's tag)
god the anchor deterioration was so good. remember how terrifying that was when you had no idea what was going on, and every once in a while the inquisitor would spontaneously hiss and flick their hand in first surprise and then pain, and then suddenly control over them would be fully wrested from your hands as they writhed and cried out in agony, and the music was a drumming heartbeat in your ears, and finally you could see it fragmenting and dissolving with shreds of it drifting off in the breeze like it was nothing more than vapor after a detonation. yeah.
Sibling rivalry only works on the page if both siblings secretly think the other one got the easier version of their childhood. Nobody thinks they won. Write both of them convinced they lost, and suddenly the fighting makes sense.
For @shadow-dragon-week! Big thank you to them for hosting. Somehow what I managed to write for this lovely Shadow Dragon event is a glimpse into the time Erasmus Mercar accidentally-on-purpose became a Venatori. He is simultaneously the best and worst undercover agent.
Day 4: Enemies (Venatori)
(Rook Mercar Pre-Veilguard | ~1800 Words | CW: Slavery, canon typical fantasy racism, ableism, brief gore and horror)
"Erasmus," the Grand Cleric of Vyrantium said from behind his desk, voice as soft as black silk. "Stay."
In the doorway, two steps from freedom, Erasmus stopped. The rest of the clerks filed out of the chamber and passed him with undisguised glee, obviously believing it to be the last time they would have to lay eyes on the inconvenient elf. Coolly, he looked into each of their slimy, powdered faces. I'll kill you, he thought. The pale, wormy lips. The blushed cheekbones. Teeth bleached until they were as white and fragile as eggshells. I am the truth and I'll kill you all.
With his hands folded delicately behind his back, he approached the desk. His slippered feet made no noise on the woven carpet and there was nothing but the heavy darkness hanging outside the windows to muffle the beating of his heart.
The Grand Cleric signed the last of his papers and gestured Erasmus to a chair across from him with an oversized hand. He was a man large in every sense, except for the irony of his gentle voice. Broad shoulders and a thick neck supported his massive head, its size and squareness exaggerated by a closely trimmed beard and a scalp he shaved smooth each morning, lathered with nothing but cold water. Still, his bulging eyes were the biggest part of him. The thin lower lids sagged, revealing too much of the white below the gray of his irises, and he did not blink as often as a man should. This often gave Erasmus the impression, especially in their moments of confidence, when the Grand Cleric was moved by emotion, that they might pop out and roll across the floor.
This evening, Erasmus met those haunting eyes with a respectful bow, trying to ignore the dagger that sat on the desk between them. To the dismay of other Magisters who wished to bribe him, the Grand Cleric scorned adornments. His bulk was wrapped in the same thick wool one would find on the back of a soldier, and outside of worship his neck went bare. The dagger was a decadence, out of place. Its hilt was polished onyx carved into the writhing body of a serpent dragon, eyes shining rubies set in gold.
"Have a drink with me, my child."
Silently, the slaves poured the wine. Although Erasmus did not look at them - he wasn't expected to - they were familiar to him. Two women, not much older than himself, one human and one elf with black curly hair. Their blank faces were a better disguise than he could ever muster.
The Grand Cleric raised his crystal glass, dwarfed in his grasp. "To change."
"To change," Erasmus echoed. He had to focus on not choking on his first sip of wine. His throat was so tight, as if it were trying to block his heart from climbing into his mouth.
"If you had told me a year ago that I would have an elf on my staff, I would have thought you were mad," the Grand Cleric said mildly. "Now people believe I am the mad one for keeping you in my council."
Erasmus kept his face still. The Grand Cleric was watching him carefully, unblinking.
"Tell me, Erasmus, am I mad?"
Yes. "No, your Eminence."
"So why do I keep you?"
Because you are a weak and lonely man who is easily manipulated. "I'm assuming you retain me because of my charming disposition."
A short, whistling exhale went through the man's nose, as close as the Grand Cleric came to laughing.
"True, you lack the temperament that makes a pet. They do say that the elves of Seheron carry a certain ferocity." He lingered on the word, eyes widening in the low candlelight, then sighed. "If you were one of the docile kind, they would not come whining to me. They are afraid of you."
He meant it as praise. They were afraid of the Grand Cleric too.
"And while I find you useful, your presence has become a distraction."
Erasmus found himself clutching his wineglass, palms beginning to sweat. "Your Eminence, I serve you and the holy glory of Tevinter. I will not be distracted from our goals by the whims of bureaucrats."
"Our goals?" The Grand Cleric's voice softened further, sliding under Erasmus' skin.
"To bring true faith back to the Imperium." Erasmus leaned forward over the desk like he was leaning over a ledge, eager for the fall. This rapturous face was one he wore often, and although he despised its pleading eyes and wicked mouth, the mask had unlocked much. He had been wearing it when the Grand Cleric first told him of his dreams, of a new voice speaking in an ancient tongue from behind the throne of the Maker. I believe it to be elvhen, he had confided. That night, Erasmus had sent a raven back to Minrathous, stomach a knot of sickness and pride over his discovery.
"A reformation the like of which the world has never seen," he continued. "Your Eminence, what you have told me of your visions - you have been chosen as Thalsian was."
The Grand Cleric blinked, his lips wide lips twitching into something like a smile. It looked painful. He picked up the dagger and turned it slowly, thoughtful.
"I have spoken to you of my beginnings. To many among us, the third son of a Laetan Tribune has no more right to be in this room than a rattus. I see something of myself in you, my child. Is that strange?"
Again, Erasmus bowed his head. He could almost feel the edge of the dagger on the back of his neck. "You honor me."
"I do," the Grand Cleric agreed, nearing a whisper. "Vibius plans to kill you tonight."
Vibius. The one with the egg teeth. The ill-tempered fifth son of a propertied Altus family. He resented that his family had gladly given him to the Chantry, where his poor judgement could pose no danger to their considerable profit streams, but as a priest he had found every shameful way to line the pockets of his black robes with gold. For a time that been enough to quell the jealousy - until the day he was informed he was to share a table with an knife-ear.
Erasmus kept the scorn in his voice. "He has tried that before."
Two assassins had been sent in the first week of his appointment. One had been incompetent enough to carry notes in the front pocket of his jerkin. Since Vibius believed he had only a fraction of the riches that had been denied him, he hated to part with coin; Erasmus wasn't surprised he had sought out the cheapest assassins in Vyrantium. How embarrassing would it be to spend too much money on the life of an elf.
Of course, the Grand Cleric was not surprised by this disclosure. "Yes, but never directly, that I am aware."
Erasmus paused. That was idiocy. Vibius was no match for him. Even if the man bloated himself with blood magic, Erasmus was by far the superior mage. Why would the man who wouldn't risk a single spare coin make such a foolish gamble with his life?
The knife glistened as the Grand Cleric turned it again in his hands.
Kaffas. Vibius wanted his plans known. He believed the Grand Cleric would put an end to Erasmus himself, to save himself the scandal. How embarrassing to have your ferocious elven pet bite the company.
Erasmus did not flinch from the blade. Lightly, he set his half-empty cup on the desk beside the dagger, and then lifted his gaze to meet the Grand Cleric's stare.
"Do you wish me to die, your Eminence?" he asked. The Maker sent him strength and his voice did not waver, although the candles behind the Grand Cleric betrayed his fear. The flames danced and quivered in excitement as his mana touched them; if he grasped them, the room would be alight. He could go for the window, then. He'd have a better chance breaking his fall than fighting his way down the tower steps.
Or perhaps he should stay and watch the Grand Cleric burn. Let the heat melt those sickening eyes out of their sockets.
"No, my child." The Grand Cleric finally answered. "I do not. I tire of these squabbles. United, the priests of Tevinter were once a power greater than the Archon; so many have forgotten the old ways. They name an invalid child Divine. A weakling, made from weak blood."
Ashur. Erasmus had tried to banish the name from this dark place, along with the memories attached to it. The smell of jasmine, night air against his lips, the golden light of his last dawn on the rooftops of Minrathous. He had been lying for his Perfection since the day they met, but he knew he would never be able to hide his love for him.
Thankfully, after months of careful sycophancy, the Grand Cleric had taken to interpreting his silences as reverent agreement.
"I am well within my right to dispose of Vibius - however, killing a child of an ally to protect an elf is…unusual. It will lead to questions. Questions that must be answered with loyalty."
"Yes, your Eminence."
"Erasmus, in this war, I believe the Gods sent you to me for a reason. So I offer you a favor unknown to your kind: a chance to rise with the Venatori."
The Grand Cleric stood to his full height, towering over Erasmus, who sat silent in the chair. He'd been waiting for this moment, given everything to reach it. (I fear no evil, he had told Ashur on that rooftop. The light of the Maker guides us to truth.) Now that it was here, the truth, his insides were cold. Around him, the candles shrunk. (Ashur had been quiet in the new morning light. Then I must be afraid for you.)
"It is a dangerous blessing. It will not be without sacrifice," the Grand Cleric went on.
Erasmus kept his eyes on the dagger, even as the Grand Cleric dragged it across one of his massive palms. Blood bubbled out lazily.
"But it is an opportunity to cleanse your blood, to become a true man of Tevinter."
With an air of benevolence, he held out the bloody dagger, as if Erasmus had a choice beyond this vile lie and death.
I'll kill you. Erasmus rose and took the knife. It was too heavy, as if it carried the weight of every needless drop of blood it had spilt. Palms still slick with sweat, he lifted it level with the Grand Cleric's chest. The candles blazed.
There were faces reflected in the blade. The slaves - they were still standing behind them! Erasmus' stomach lurched. He had forgotten them. In his rage, he would have set the fire, burned them alive.
The elven woman was looking at him with all the hatred he felt inside his chest. Even on the dirty metal, her dark eyes shone bright, like stoked embers. If he stuck the knife into the Grand Cleric's neck now, told them to run, he knew they would never get out of the tower alive. In this moment, all he could offer them was a moment of freedom on the window's ledge.
But there was a dawn waiting on the horizon.
Maker, forgive my lies. He turned the dagger on himself, slashing into his hand. The knife went too deep and blood splattered onto the desk, covering the drops given by the Grand Cleric. With a thick finger, the man stirred them together into one and painted a simple glyph onto the wood. The instant he finished the last stroke, a horrible, writhing pain ignited in Erasmus' hand. Maker! With a cry, he dropped the knife and clutched at the wound, at the terrible mistake. Maker! I am your child! His knees hit the rug without a sound. From the back wall, the slaves watched his trembling with stony faces.
When Erasmus' shaking finally stopped, the Grand Cleric looked down at him with pleasure. His eyes buldging, he stuck his bloody finger in his mouth. Horrified, Erasmus watched as he licked it clean.
"To the rise of a new Tevinter," the Grand Cleric said.
"A new Tevinter," Erasmus whispered, his voice as soft as his master's.
"Doomed yaoi" this "doomed yuri" that what about doomed found family. What about finding comfort in these new people after going through so much on your own—a community, a solace, a home to come back to. Caring for them with all you've got, only to realize that it wasn't going to work, ever, no matter what you tried. Only to have it ripped apart, no matter how much you tried to hold them close. Found family that becomes lost family. Found family that takes your heart with it when they go.
1. Slowly going on with this Awakening piece. I'm juggling the background and can't wait for it to be finished. I like the texture of the throne tho!
2. I saw one painting in a museum and went "omg those are my characters!". So yeah, mama and papa cullavellan are making the babies pose, with different results.
3. Not Dragon Age related but who cares. I saw Legend of Aang. Twice. And am quite hyped with Sonam and her design. I'm making myself a new phone background. The tattoos are gonna get added in the colouring phase.
4. Last page of Cicero's character design, these are the casual outfits + armour. I'm stuck on the armour design, I'd love some reminders to Mughal armours, but I'm struggling a bit to mix that silhouette with his own. I like the skirt and it'd look good in fight scenes but it's too square. Their shape language is "roundish for body. Triangles for clothes and accessories.". MH. I'll have to sketch something on paper.
Tagging: @raflesia65 @pinayelf @cute-ellyna @bfire92 @dungeons-and-dragon-age @shanaraharlyah @lyana-chan @pickelda @wickedsnack and YOU reading!
Last day of @dragonagekissweek, I went for two OCs. A sneaky kiss mid-experiment. Nothing to see, Niamh (my cullavellan baby) and Cicero clearly hate each other, they're sworn enemies, each other's nemesis, as you can clearly see.
Under the cut: first traditional version!
I had half a plan of doing this traditional, with gouache. Then I started with an acrylic marker I'm not sure whether I like or hate (the patches on the lilac hair? Somehow it coloured in two different colours. Yes it's dry. Don't ask me why.). And I went on with regular tube gouaches... And realizes I should have finished the drawing BEFORE colouring. And used a bigger sheet of paper. The pose wasn't sneaky enough, but tell me what you think!
There should be a Josephine romance scene where you take her on a date in Val Royeaux and there is a montage of all the different things you do together, and in every clip Leliana is somewhere in the background in a different bad disguise
